


Zebras Among The Horses

by PaintingWithWords (paint_with_words)



Series: Zebras Among The Horses [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety Attacks, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Characters as Doctors, Complete, Hospitalization, Hurt/Comfort, Illustrated, Live and Love: A Yuri!!! On Ice Big Bang, M/M, Major Illness, Medical Procedures, Mild Blood, Minor Character Death, Mutual Pining, Not Canon Compliant, Original Character(s), Slow Burn, Virology, epidemiology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-07-15 12:58:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 62,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16063646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paint_with_words/pseuds/PaintingWithWords
Summary: After he is fired from his position as a field epidemiologist for the CDC, Yuuri Katsuki takes a position in Paris, working with world-famous epidemiologist Viktor Nikiforov.  Fairly quickly, Yuuri realizes that Viktor is the man of his dreams: he’s intelligent, driven, and beautiful.  Even though the attraction seems to be mutual, Yuuri knows it’s a bad idea to sleep with his boss.  However, when an accident exposes Yuuri to an unknown virus, he's left wondering: will he get his happily ever after?





	1. The End

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Littorella](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Littorella/gifts), [AntaresPromise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AntaresPromise/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Together, Yuuri and Mari added incense to the urn in front of the coffins while the priest chanted behind his surgical mask. Three times they did this by themselves. No one else would come near them, except for Minako, and they made her sit in the back because she was not related to any of them by blood. As though blood were the only thing that made someone family.

 

  


 

* * *

 

 

At their parents’ funeral, Mari helped Yuuri walk down the aisle.  He was barely up and out of his own bed, having been sick for a week with the same avian flu that had claimed their parents.  None of this seemed real to Yuuri.  He felt like he was walking in a fog, or in a nightmare.

Together, Yuuri and Mari added incense to the urn in front of the coffins while the priest chanted behind his surgical mask.  Three times they did this by themselves.  No one else would come near them, except for Minako, and they made her sit in the back because she was not related to any of them by blood.  As though blood were the only thing that made someone family.

Mari helped Yuuri sit down in the front row, then took his hand in both of hers and held it tightly.  Yuuri didn’t know which of them she was trying to comfort and reassure.  The sardonic big sister he’d always known was nowhere to be seen.  Now she was serious and somber and there hadn’t been a day in almost three weeks where he hadn’t seen her cry. 

Everything Yuuri had ever known, had ever counted on, had fallen apart around him.  His entire world had crumbled in the space of a month.

Uncle Tatsuya, his father’s younger brother, sat half a row of empty seats away from him, eyeing him warily.  He had arrived yesterday morning, and it was the first time Yuuri had seen him in seven years, since he was five years old.  Late last night, Yuuri had awakened to the sound of voices raised in anger downstairs.  He’d crept down the stairs and heard their uncle telling Mari that he was taking over the onsen and that she had no say in the matter.  Unfortunately, he was right: Mari was only eighteen and not yet old enough to enter into any legal contracts on her own.  ~~~~

It seemed so wrong that his parents could die and that their nearest living relative would turn them out of the only home they’d ever known.

Yuuri watched as Tatsuya looked around, his eyes darting about nervously over his mask.  Everyone wore the masks.  Even Yuuri had one on, despite the fact that he’d already had the flu and couldn’t give it to anyone or get it again.  He wore it so people wouldn’t be afraid of him.

It didn’t work.

Yuuri had never felt so alone in his entire life.

He barely heard the words the priest uttered, the new names he gave their parents to prevent them from returning to the land of the living.  He barely noticed the mourners who had come, the condolences they offered, or the envelopes they pressed into his or his sister’s gloved hands as they quickly moved away, afraid to linger.  He felt like something inside of him had been torn out and left him raw and bleeding. 

When it came time to leave and go back home, Mari began to lead him up the aisle to where Minako waited for them, elegant and beautiful in her black dress and heels.  But Yuuri wasn’t ready to go yet.  He pulled away from his sister and went to stand in front of the pair of flower-covered coffins.  He peeled off the mask and gloves and stuffed them into the pockets of his dress slacks.  It wasn’t like they would do any good now anyway. 

Yuuri looked up at the photos of his mother and his father, his heart sinking in his chest.  In between the coffins, the last picture they had taken as a family was in a large frame.  It had been at his last ice skating competition, a little over a month ago.  He was in the middle of the picture, happy and smiling, a medal around his neck, his parents on either side of him.  Mari was behind them, grinning madly.

It had always been the four of them.  They had always been there for each other.  Now his parents were gone and it was just him and Mari.

Yuuri’s vision clouded and he blinked, tears streaming down his pale face.  He took a shaky breath and clasped his hands together over his chest.

“I don’t want anyone else to ever have to say goodbye to their parents like this,” he whispered.  “I don’t want anyone else to ever have to feel this kind of pain.  I’m going to do everything that I can to make sure what happened to us never happens to anyone else, ever again.  I promise.”

Mari’s arm came up around his shoulders.  Sobbing, he buried his face in his hands and let his sister lead him away. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In Japan, you are not considered an adult until you are [20](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Age_of_majority). You can't sign a contract without the consent of your parents.
> 
> Come say hello on [Tumblr](http://paintingwithwords.tumblr.com). 
> 
> Feedback is worth its weight in gold, baby...


	2. Rogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “As I’m sure you’re aware,” Huett continued, “there has been some resistance to the new administration. A number of news outlets have said things that are frankly untrue and there are some new accounts that have popped up on Twitter that purport to be run by dissatisfied employees of government agencies.” She stopped and looked directly at him. 
> 
> “Tell me, Doctor Katsuki, what do you know about the Rogue CDC Twitter account?”
> 
> Yuuri’s mouth went dry as his heart began to race even faster. Was this what the meeting was really all about? 
> 
> How much did they know?

Yuuri knew he was in trouble.  No one got called into a meeting with the interim director of the entire agency unless something was really wrong, especially a lowly field epidemiologist like himself.  He wasn’t anyone special.  So he could only be here because, somehow, he’d screwed up.

Intellectually, Yuuri was well aware of the fact that worrying wouldn’t change anything and only made things worse.   He glanced at the clock on the far wall and saw that it was almost twenty minutes past the time the meeting was supposed to start, which only served to feed his anxiety even more.  What was going on?

Yuuri clasped his hands together in his lap to keep them from trembling.  He felt shaky and short of breath and he had a sinking feeling deep in the pit of his stomach.  His heart was racing, and he was certain if someone looked at him, they’d be able to see the artery on the side of his neck fluttering in time with his heartbeat.  He was scared and nauseated, and he felt like something bad was about to happen, or had already happened and he didn’t know what it was.

His anxiety was threatening to overwhelm him.  He had to fight it off as best he could.

Sitting back in the chair, Yuuri inhaled through his nose and breathed deeply into his stomach as discreetly as possible.  He held his breath and silently counted to three, then slowly exhaled through his lips as he counted to four, the way he’d been taught so many years ago.  In for three, hold for three, out for four.  In for three, hold for three, out for four.  In for three…

Once his breathing had evened out, Yuuri took a drink from the cup on the end table.  The water was cool and refreshing, exactly what he needed right now.  He closed his eyes and focused on the physical sensations, imaging that the water was washing away his fears and doubts, little by little, every time he swallowed.  This was not the time to be seen as a nervous wreck.

Last night when he saw the email from Strassberg’s assistant, informing him of today’s meeting, he had been waiting in baggage claim.  The email itself had been short and to the point, with no hint as to the reason for the meeting.  But the content of the email wasn’t the problem; it was the fact that it had even been sent in the first place that had kept him awake all night, with his stomach twisting in knots.  He knew you didn’t get called into the interim director’s office just to chat.  You got called in, as Leo would so eloquently put it, when you were in deep shit.

He ran his hands through his hair and sighed.  Why in the hell did Strassberg want to see _him_?

Yuuri thought of the field assignment he just finished in Dallas, a measles cluster with nineteen children, most under the age of five.  It was his first field assignment without an older, more experienced epidemiologist present.

He’d been on the ground in Texas for ten exhausting days.  During the day, he’d met with state officials, talked to the pediatricians and family practitioners who’d diagnosed the sick children, called local hospitals and clinics, and visited the families of the children who had fallen ill.  He’d spent evenings in his hotel room, eating microwaved meals while he poured over the data he’d collected, traced back all of the contacts, and put together the pieces of the puzzle.

Yuuri traced the index case to Brianna Wilson, an unvaccinated three-year-old girl who had been on vacation in Europe with her family a month earlier.  They had visited Berlin, which was in the middle of an ongoing measles outbreak.  Upon her return, she had a playdate with three other children, all of whom had parents who had decided not to vaccinate their children.  Two days after the playdate, she developed a high fever and a persistent cough, with the telltale red rash appearing three days later. Her family doctor diagnosed her with measles and alerted the state health officials and the CDC. 

One of the children at the playdate infected both of his siblings, the youngest of which had to be hospitalized when she developed pneumonia.  Another child who contracted the virus at the playdate transmitted it to some of the children at his Sunday school, resulting in a dozen more cases.  And the last two who fell ill had done so because their parents purposefully exposed them to a child they mistakenly thought had chicken pox.

Not a single one of the infected children had been vaccinated.  Five of them had been hospitalized due to complications from the virus.  When questioned, some parents had voiced concerns about possible side effects from the vaccine.  Others cited a fear that the vaccine might cause autism as a reason not to vaccinate their children.

It was all Yuuri could do not to yell at the parents as they told him these things, and it got harder with each and every visit.  He understood these parents had made the decision not to vaccinate their children because they loved them and thought they were doing the right thing.  But inside, he was furious.  In ignorance and fear, they had put their children in needless danger.  So, instead of berating them, he calmly explained that their children were in much more danger from the virus than from the vaccine for the virus.  He gave them handouts from the CDC that went into further detail about measles and went over proper convalescent care with them again.  Before he left, he visited with their children, some of whom were still recovering, and let each child choose a sticker with a cartoon character.

Not every meeting with families went smoothly, and a few of the visits had been tense the entire time.  Did one of the families complain about him to the agency?  Was that was this was all about?  Yuuri sat back and closed his weary eyes as he tried to figure it out who it could have been.

Was it Travis Boyd’s father, who had asked to see Yuuri’s ID before he’d even let him in the house and then said that anyone could fake his badge from the CDC?  Or had it been Ashley Fowler’s parents, who accused him of being nothing more than a salesman for the drug companies?  Maybe it was Elijah Johnson’s mother, who had yelled at him when he told her that essential oils couldn’t cure measles or any other virus.  He buried his face in his hands and sighed.  He hadn’t slept since he got off the plane last night, and there was no telling who-

And then it dawned on him that if anyone had complained about him or how he handled things, it would have to be Rebecca Patterson’s mother.

Yuuri’s hands flew to his mouth as he gasped.

“Oh shit,” he whispered, shrinking into the chair.

Rebecca’s home had been the last one on his list.  He was exhausted and running on reserves when he arrived at her house, hopeful that he was at the end of the investigation.

Rebecca’s mother had been a little defensive when he arrived, but she had invited him into the living room and offered him a glass of iced tea anyway, which he’d gratefully accepted.  Even in May, Texas was already sweltering.  He wished, not for the first time, that he had Celestino’s charm.  Instead, he did what he did best, sat down and got to work.

He interviewed her and had her fill out the questionnaire about where they’d been and who they’d had contact with.  Then he talked to Rebecca, who was lying on the couch in the playroom watching Disney movies, her Rainbow Dash plush tucked under her arm.  It was clear she would be fine and he let out a sigh of relief.  He walked back to the kitchen with her mother, empty glass in hand. 

The family dog trotted up to Yuuri as he set the glass down on the counter.  She ambled over to him and looked up expectantly, her tongue lolling out of the side of her mouth as she panted.

Yuuri smiled and leaned down to give her a good scratch behind the ears.  His smile faded as he noticed and read the tags on her collar, his weariness replaced by cold anger.  He fished the measles pamphlets out of his messenger bag and laid them on the counter next to the empty glass and turned to face Rebecca’s mother.

“Mrs. Patterson,” he blurted out, ten long days’ worth of frustration bubbling up inside of him, “can you tell me why you chose to vaccinate your dog but not your daughter?”

She gasped, her eyes widening in shock.  Yuuri regarded her coolly and hoped he’d made his point. 

“You need to leave my house now,” she said through clenched teeth.  It was very clear that the interview was over.

By the time he left, tears were streaming down her face.  She slammed the door behind him as he walked out.

Yuuri sat back in his chair as the sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach came back with a vengeance.  In one rash moment, with one stupid, thoughtless comment, he’d fucked everything up.

This was where he’d gone wrong.  He was sure of it.  This had to be why he was being called into this meeting.  He knew he shouldn’t have said such a hurtful thing to her, but he’d just been so tired and so upset…   If only he could make Strassberg understand how frustrated he’d been when he’d said it and reassure her that it would never happen again-

“Doctor Katsuki?” the assistant said, jarring Yuuri from his thoughts.  Sheepishly, Yuuri realized that it wasn’t the first time the man had spoken to him.

Yuuri looked up at the young man behind the desk.   Was it his imagination or was he looking at him with pity?

“They’re ready for you now, sir.”

“Thank you,” Yuuri said as he stood, straightened his jacket, and headed towards the door.  They?  Did he say ‘they’?  Was there was more than one person in the director’s office?  _Shit_.  Oh, this was bad, really bad.  He ran a hand through his hair again, drained the last of the water from the cup, and dropped it into the wastebasket.  Taking a deep breath, he reached for the doorknob and turned.

Strassberg was seated behind her desk.  Her short greying hair framed her narrow face and her mouth was set in a thin, taut line.  To her left sat a representative from human resources, who looked to be in his mid-fifties.

The younger blonde on the director’s right had two stapled packets on the desk in front of her, turned printed side down.  Yuuri noted the expensive-looking string of cultured pearls and the VISITOR badge clipped to the collar of her black dress.  Why was a visitor, someone who didn’t even work for the CDC, sitting in on a meeting between CDC employees?

Yuuri swallowed the lump in his throat as he sat down in the lone chair in front of the director’s desk.   He clasped his hands in his lap and tried to focus on his breathing.

“Good morning, Doctor Katsuki,” Strassberg said.  “Thank you for meeting with us this morning.”

Yuuri nodded and gave them a feeble attempt at a smile. 

“We’re being joined today by George Preston from HR,” Strassberg continued, “and Nancy Huett.  She flew in from DC for this meeting.”

Yuuri nodded to each of them in turn, but his mind was chewing on the information the director had just given him.  Huett came in from Washington just for this meeting?  But he’d only met with Rebecca’s mother two days ago.  Or did someone else complain?  Were there multiple complaints?  Oh my God-

“Doctor Katsuki,” Huett said, jarring him from his panicked thoughts, “I’m sure you’re wondering why you’ve been called to this meeting today.  I’m here on behalf of the new administration.  We think you might be able to shed some light on a few things for us.  I hope you’ll be willing to help.”

“Ah, sure,” Yuuri replied, taken completely by surprise.  What was it she said?  They needed his help?  What was this about?

“Good,” Huett said, glancing at the packets in front of her.  “So, since I don’t work for the CDC, I’m going to need you to help me out.  Can you explain to me exactly what it is that you do here?”

“I- I’m a field epidemiologist,” Yuuri said and inwardly winced.  Quickly, he cleared his throat and tried again.  His voice was stronger the second time around.

“When a group of people in one area get sick, the CDC sends a field epidemiologist to the area to investigate.  My job is to help to identify the disease, determine how it’s spreading in the community, and how to stop it.  I guess you could say I’m kind of a ‘disease detective’.”

“I see,” Huett said, with no change in her expression.  Yuuri fretted, his hands knitting themselves together out of sight in his lap.  Most people found the description of ‘disease detective’ at least mildly amusing and usually smiled or chuckled.  Her lack of reaction was telling.

“I would imagine you’ve seen some difficult and trying things in your time out in the field.”

Yuuri nodded.  No point in denying the obvious, and he wasn’t sure he trusted his voice.

“Would you say you’re happy here?”

“Yes, of course,” Yuuri answered.  “I love the work that I do.”

“Do you love it even when it’s frustrating?” Huett asked, eyeing him carefully.

Yuuri nodded as he shifted a little in his seat.

“Yes.  I think all jobs have their share of frustration.  But when you do something that’s worthwhile, that makes a difference and helps people…”  He shrugged.  “You take the good with the bad.”

Strassberg was watching Huett, her expression unreadable, while Preston looked uncomfortable.  Why were they letting Huett ask the questions, especially since she wasn’t with the agency and didn’t even know what someone in his position did?  Nothing about this felt right.

“As I’m sure you’re aware,” Huett continued, “there has been some resistance to the new administration.  A number of news outlets have said things that are frankly untrue and there are some new accounts that have popped up on Twitter that purport to be run by dissatisfied employees of government agencies.”  She stopped and looked directly at him.

“Tell me, Doctor Katsuki, what do you know about the Rogue CDC Twitter account?”

Yuuri’s mouth went dry as his heart began to race even faster.  Was this what the meeting was really all about?

How much did they know?

“I… I know it exists, but I don’t know really know anything more about it,” he stammered.

“Are you sure about that?” Huett asked.

He didn’t have time to react as she flipped over one of the two packets in front of her and began leafing through the pages.  He realized each page was a tweet and watched as she settled on one in particular.  Smiling, she tapped it twice with her index finger and spun the pages around on the desk, turning them so that he could easily read the text.

“Why don’t you take a look at this tweet.”

Yuuri felt his stomach twist into knots.  It was from the Rogue CDC account.

“Have a look and tell me what you think.”

Yuuri looked over at the tweet about health care and read it silently to himself, even though he already knew what it said.  He remembered how upset he’d been when he’d written it.

“It…” he began, but had to stop to clear his throat again.  “It expresses a strong opinion on health care,” he said, glancing up at Huett.  Was it his imagination or was she smirking at him?

Huett flipped over the other packet, this one much smaller, and went straight to one particular page.  She turned the packet so he could see it and lined it up beside the tweet from Rogue CDC.  As he suspected, the second packet was made up of printouts from his own personal Twitter account.

Yuuri felt like he was going to be sick.

“And what about this tweet, which is from your personal account?  Its tone is very similar, saying it’s the duty of a nation to take care of the health of its people.  Your tweet precedes the Rogue CDC tweet by four days.”  She looked at him, her mouth twisted in a sneer.

“Are you sure you don’t know anything about the Rogue CDC Twitter account, Doctor Katsuki?”

“Yes,” he said, mustering as much courage as he could.  It was hard to lie straight to her face.  “I’m pretty sure I’m not the only person who feels that way.  If you searched all of Twitter for similar entries-”

“But we’re not looking at all of Twitter.  We’re only looking at the similarities between your personal Twitter account and the Rogue CDC account.”

Yuuri felt like his whole body was thrumming in time with his pulse.  His whole world narrowed down to the two stacks of paper on the desk.

He’d only used the Rogue CDC account three times.  He didn’t know who had originally set it up, but Leo was the one who told him about it, and where he could find the phone they used to post to the account.  No one used their personal phone or computer: that could be tracked.

“As you well know,” Huett resumed, drawing Yuuri back from his thoughts, “this country doesn’t offer the entitlement of health care to all of our citizens.  But I understand that Japan, your native country, does.  Do you feel this is a failing of the United States?  Is this why you haven’t applied for citizenship?”

For a second, all Yuuri could do was sit in the chair and blink, startled and confused by this turn in her questioning.  What did his status to be in America have to do with this?

“It’s not easy to become an American citizen-” he began.

“You don’t even have a green card!” Huett interrupted, making him jump.  “Instead, you reapply every three years for either a student or work visa.  To some, that might show that you’re not willing to give your all to this country.”

Once again, Yuuri was momentarily stunned into silence and he tried his best not to show any reaction.  The truth was he wanted to work for the best place in the world to help prevent the spread of diseases and that just happened to be the CDC.  He never _wanted_ to be an American citizen.  But how could he explain that to her in a manner that she could understand?  And why did she know that he didn’t have a green card and was here on a work visa?

“I have applied for a green card,” he said softly, “and the application has been approved, but there’s a long waiting list to get one.”  Craig had once joked that they should just get married and tell the people at Immigration to go screw themselves and give Yuuri his green card.  But that had been years ago, and Craig was long gone.

“Never mind that now, it’s not really pertinent,” Huett said as she leaned back in her chair and looked at the tweets in front of her.  Yuuri watched while she flipped through the Rogue CDC stack again, then leafed through his personal tweets.

Why had he ever used that damn account?  What an idiot he’d been.  He wished he’d never found out about it.

“Here’s another tweet about working families and proper nutrition.  Once again, the Rogue CDC tweet is very similar to what you tweeted a few days earlier.” She stopped to look at him, but Yuuri remained silent.

“And here’s another set of tweets about our president’s choice for the new director of the CDC.  The words are different, but the tone is the same.  For someone who claims not to know anything about the Rogue CDC account, some of these tweets bear a striking similarity to some of your personal ones.”

Yuuri said nothing.  At this point, he doubted he would walk out of this meeting with his job.  All he was focused on now was making it through this ordeal without crying.

“Then, a few days ago, there was tweet about the importance of vaccinating young children,” Huett crowed.  “Tell me, Doctor Katsuki, what was your last assignment, the one you just got back from?”

Oh God, they were going to use this against him after all.  Yuuri swallowed down bile.

“I was in Dallas tracking a measles cluster,” he whispered.

“Were any of the people who got sick vaccinated?”

“No,” he said quietly, feeling defeated.  But an idea occurred to him.  Maybe he wasn’t done.

“But your premise is built on the idea that whatever I say is replicated a few days later on the Rogue CDC account.  I haven't tweeted about this subject.”

“True, but it’s just too close to your own experience, Doctor Katsuki.  I have no doubt that you talked to someone here in the office about it and they tweeted it for you.  The Rogue CDC account does claim to have multiple authors after all.  We figure you’re just one of them.”

“You can’t prove any of this. It’s all circumstantial-” Whatever else Yuuri wanted to say died when he looked at Huett again.  The cold smile was back on her face again.

“Back in Washington, we ran the tweets of all CDC employees through extremely sophisticated analytical software.  According to our analysis, there’s an eighty-seven percent chance that you’re the author of these three tweets.”  She rested her chin on her hand and sneered at him.  “I’m pretty confident we have one of our rogue employees.  And when the others see what happens to you, they’ll fall back in line, if they know what’s good for them.”

Yuuri closed his eyes and sighed.  All of his years of hard work, all those years spent in school and doing his residency and his fellowship, all those years of working in the field… wasted.  Gone.  All because he’d been an idiot and tweeted a few times about his frustrations.

He wished he’d never used that damn account. 

“These three tweets from Rogue CDC show a portrait of a person who’s not happy where they are, just like your own personal tweets,” Huett said.  “Instead of following the chain of command and bringing your concerns to your superiors, you instead chose to disclose them publicly on Twitter.  This shows that you’re unhappy, unreliable, and can’t be trusted.”

Huett was leaning back in her chair, that self-satisfied smirk still on her face.

He wanted to shake her.  Or scream.  Or cry.

"Doctor Katsuki,” Strassberg said, “having your own opinion is fine, so long as you don't make the agency you work for look bad if you voice it.  You can say whatever you want about us so long as it ultimately benefits us.”

Yuuri nodded and looked down at his hands in his lap.  He was not going to let them see him cry.

“Whoever the authors of Rogue CDC are, they make the agency look like we can't tow the line for the new administration.  That's not good for morale among the people who work here, it strains the working relationship between us and Washington, and it makes us look bad in the view of the public as well.  We simply can't have that.  I'm sure you can understand that, can't you?"

Yuuri could only stare mutely at her.  He knew what was coming, but he hoped that they might do something else, change their minds at the last moment-

“Doctor Katsuki,” Strassberg said, “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid we have no other choice but to let you go.  Effective immediately, we are terminating your employment with the agency.”

Yuuri closed his eyes and bit his trembling lower lip.  Shame and regret burned in him like a white-hot fire in his chest and it was hard to breathe around them.  He wanted to crawl away and hide-

“If I were you,” Huett said, “I would get my affairs in order and start making plans to leave the country.”

His eyes snapped open and he looked at her, tears threatening to spill down his face.  Had he heard her correctly?

“Wh-what?” he managed.

“Doctor Katsuki, certainly you must be aware that a termination such as this one would tarnish your record.  Who would hire someone who complained so publicly, and so critically, about their former employer?  Your reputation is in the trash; you’re damaged goods, and I’m going to make damn sure that no one in this country will hire you.  And seeing as you’re here on a work visa, if you’re not working, then you can’t stay.”

Yuuri felt his mouth go dry as astonishment and terror gripped him.  Could they do this to him?

“Your work visa is due for renewal in about four months.” Huett said.  “I can tell you now, based on what I’ve seen here today, that you’re a liability to anyone who’d want to hire you.  You simply can’t be trusted.”

She flashed her teeth at him, the cold smile of a predator who’d toyed with its prey.  But then she let the smile fade and contempt washed over her features before she looked away and turned to speak with Strassberg.

Preston was saying something to him, but he couldn’t make out the words.  They had fired him.  They had really fired him.  And they were telling him to get out of the country?  He needed to talk to Sara when he got home…  Oh God, what was Sara going to do?

What was _he_ going to do?

He caught a fragment of what Huett was saying to Strassberg.  “-need to catch a flight to Houston this afternoon-”

Houston?  NASA was in Houston.  Yuuri realized she was going to deliver the same kind of sentence to someone there as she had just delivered to him.  The new administration had said it was going to hunt down and fire all the federal employees who had become rogue tweeters.  He realized it was her job to deliver the news.

And she enjoyed her job.

Something broke loose inside of him then.  He had nothing left to lose.

“Tell me something, Ms. Huett,” Yuuri said, turning from Preston, “do you trust the software that tells you that I’m one of the authors of Rogue CDC?”

“Yes,” Huett said, a look of irritation flashing across her face, “I trust those numbers and that science.”

“You trust that science, but not the science that says we’re affecting this planet, or the science that says it’s important to vaccinate children?  Do you only ‘trust the science’ when it benefits you?  If that’s the case, then you and this administration can go fuck yourselves.” 

Huett’s eyes flashed and she pulled herself up, about to say something to him in reply, but Strassberg turned to him.

“Thank you, Doctor Katsuki,” she said quietly.  “You’ve made your point.  That will be all.  Now, if you’ll follow Mr. Preston to HR, I believe there are some forms you need to fill out.”

 

* * *

Preston’s face and voice were carefully neutral as he informed Yuuri that he had to sign paperwork and turn in his badge or he couldn’t get his final paycheck.  Yuuri nodded mutely, signed where it had been marked with an ‘X’.  He handed Preston his badge and took the envelope Preston gave him without a single word.

A security guard came to escort him back to his cubicle.  Yuuri was numb as they walked through the building.  A couple of times, people he knew and had worked with saw him and started to talk to him, but then they saw the guard with him and avoided eye contact or actively looked away.  It just didn’t feel real.

He didn’t break down until he saw a brand new document box sitting on his desk, ready and waiting for him to pack up his personal effects.

 

* * *

 

Two hours later, Yuuri sat in his car, parked in the driveway.  It looked like it was going to rain at any moment.  He knew he should get out of his car and take the box inside, but he just couldn’t make himself open the door.  It would be another step in admitting that this nightmare was real.

He looked over and saw a gold picture frame sticking out of the document box on the passenger seat.  Sniffling, he pulled it out and held it.  It was an old picture, taken inside an ice skating rink when he was twelve.  He was dressed in a black costume adorned with sequins, smiling as he held up a medal that had been placed around his neck.  His parents were on either side of him, hugging him tightly and smiling.  Mari was behind them, her arms around their parents’ shoulders, her hands forming peace signs behind them.

It was the last picture they’d taken together.  Less than two weeks later, a customer checked in to his family’s inn, a mutated bird flu brewing in his veins.  Before the month was out, the virus had claimed both of his parents.

He looked down at the old photo and reached out to caress his mother’s smiling face.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered as the first heavy drops hit the windshield. “I messed up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Updates on this story will be on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Please let me know what you think. Comments, kudos, and shares are greatly appreciated. Feedback is worth its weight in gold, baby...
> 
> I have tried my best to give an accurate representation as to how epidemiologists actually do their job. That being said, a few liberties have been taken and any mistakes are entirely mine. [Rogue CDC](https://twitter.com/rogue_cdc?lang=en) is/was a real Twitter account, which was active from January 2017 - May 2017. 
> 
> You can read more of my works [here](https://archiveofourown.org/users/paint_with_words/works) and find me on Tumblr at [PaintingWithWords](http://paintingwithwords.tumblr.com). Come say hello. :-)


	3. Atlanta

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You know, Yuuri,” Sara said, poking him on the knee with her finger, “my Aunt Sophia used to say that sometimes God or the Universe or whatever gives us a wonderful gift, but puts it in really ugly wrapping paper. I’ve been thinking… Maybe getting fired, as screwed up as it is, is your wonderful gift in really ugly wrapping paper. For all you know, something fantastic could be out there, just waiting for you to find it.”

“Yuuri,” Sara said, gently shaking his shoulder, “wake up.” 

He moaned and buried his head deeper in the pillow.  He was so tired and all he wanted to do was sleep-

“Yuuri,” Sara said, shaking him again, “c’mon, you need to get up.  You fell asleep on the couch in your suit.  It’s going to get wrinkled.”

Slowly, Yuuri opened his eyes and looked up at Sara.  He could just make her out in the dim afternoon light.  Damn, he didn’t mean to fall asleep…  Groggily, he pushed himself up into a sitting position and swung his legs off the couch. 

“How did your meeting-” Sara began as she sat down beside him, but whatever else she was going to say was lost as her gaze fell on the document box sitting on the floor.  Yuuri felt his shoulders sag as she gasped, her eyes going wide.

 “Shit,” she hissed. “Yuuri, tell me they didn’t-”

“They did,” Yuuri interrupted, his stomach clenching as the day’s events caught up to him again.  “They fired me.”

Before he had a chance to say or do anything else, Sara pulled him into a hug.  At first, Yuuri didn’t move, trying to resist Sara’s efforts at soothing him.  He hated sympathy, but worst of all, he hated wanting and needing sympathy.  And God, did he ever need it right now-   

Yuuri turned and hugged Sara back, burying his face against her shoulder as the tears started anew.  One of Sara’s hands came up to stroke the back of his hair as she whispered, “Oh, Yuuri, I’m sorry.  I’m so, so sorry.”

Yuuri let the tears flow, grateful he had a friend as supportive as Sara.  Over the years, they’d been there for one another through some pretty tough times.  She’d been there for him when Craig walked out.  He’d given her a place to live when Seung-Gil broke off their engagement a week before the wedding and asked her to move out.

But this…  Losing the job he’d worked his whole life for…  He couldn’t help but hear Huett’s words, over and over again: _you’re damaged goods_.  She was right: who would ever hire him again?  Everything he’d worked for was gone.

Sara held him while he cried, offering condolences and soft words of comfort.  Eventually, Yuuri quieted down.  There was only so much he could cry in one day. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Sara asked when he pulled away.  He nodded, took off his glasses, and rubbed at his eyes.  Not only were they good friends, but they were roommates.  Soon, because he’d been an idiot and lost his job, she was going to either have to find someone to move in and take over his share of the bills or find another place to live. 

Yuuri put his glasses back on and took a couple of deep, calming breaths.  He could do this.  He had to do this.  Putting this off wouldn’t do either of them any good.  But he couldn’t meet her open and concerned gaze.  Instead, he focused on a point on the floor, his hands clasped loosely between his knees.

She deserved a better friend and roommate than him. 

“It wasn’t just a meeting with the interim director,” Yuuri said softly.  “There were three people in there, and one of them was from Washington.  They let her do most of the talking.  She said they used data analysis software and thought I was one of the people running the Rogue CDC Twitter account… and that they can’t have people doing that because it’s bad for morale and sets a bad example.  So, they fired me.”

“Were you one of the people on that account?” Sara quietly asked.  There was no judgment or condemnation in her voice, she was only asking if it was true.  Yuuri closed his eyes and took another deep breath. 

Sara was his friend, first and foremost, and she deserved the truth.  But he found he couldn’t say anything, couldn’t admit that he had done this to himself, and that by doing so, he’d let her down, too.  ~~~~

Next to him, Sara sighed.  She didn’t need him to say anything: she took his silence as an admission.

“Okay,” she said, “so you got fired.  It’s not the end of the world.  You’re smart and talented and you’ve got a hell of a lot of training.  Yuuri, you’re a doctor.  A _doctor_.  Someone as skilled as you can _get_ another job-”

Yuuri barked out a humorless laugh and ran a hand through his hair. 

“I can’t get another job here, Sara.  The woman from Washington said my visa won’t get renewed and that she’s going to make sure no one hires me anyway.  And since I’m here on a work visa and I’m not working-”

“They’re going to throw you out?” Sara yelped as she jumped up off the couch.  “Yuuri, I don’t think they can do that!  I don’t think that’s legal-”

“Do you think they care about whether or not their actions are legal?” Yuuri muttered bitterly. 

Sara made several attempts to refute what he’d said, but never managed to get anything coherent out.  Finally, she turned to look at him, arms crossed over her chest, and said, “But there’s got to be something that you can do, Yuuri!  There has to be some way to fight this!”

“I don’t see how,” Yuuri replied. “Besides, I may be a doctor, but my training is very specialized.  Everything I’ve done was focused on becoming an epidemiologist.  It’s all I’ve wanted to do for years.  And now?  Now it’s gone.”

Sara sat back down beside him and huffed out a breath. 

“You know what?” she said, exasperated.  “Let’s not worry about that right now.  Tell me: when did you eat last?”

Yuuri bit his lower lip while he thought about it.  He’d been too anxious to eat when he got home last night.  This morning, he’d been so worried about his upcoming meeting that he skipped breakfast.  Even the cup of coffee he’d gotten on the way in had burned like acid in his stomach.  Food had been the farthest thing from his mind when he left the CDC this afternoon.

He gave her a sheepish look and she frowned in response.

“So, the only thing you’ve eaten in the past twenty-four hours is the bag of peanuts they gave you on the plane?”

Yuuri decided not to tell her that he’d fallen asleep on the flight and that the peanuts the attendant left on his tray were still in his messenger bag. 

“You know, for a doctor, sometimes your self-care is terrible,” Sara gently admonished.  “Good thing I picked up dinner on the way home.  Go upstairs and change.  Let’s get a decent meal inside of you, then we can talk about this and see if we can’t figure something out.  You always think better on a full stomach.”

Sara was right.  He needed to get out of his suit and he needed to eat.  He could deal with this later.  Quickly Yuuri changed into a comfortable pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt, hung up his suit in his closet, and headed back down to the kitchen. 

A takeout bag from Gino’s, Sara’s favorite Italian restaurant, sat next to an unopened bottle of merlot on the countertop.  While he waited for Sara to join him, Yuuri pulled two wine glasses out of the cupboard, uncorked the bottle, and filled the glasses halfway.  Then he took both of the containers out of the bag and placed them side by side on the counter.  Carefully, he opened the first one and saw his favorite dish from Gino’s: chicken marsala on a bed of angel hair pasta.  The aroma was heavenly and suddenly he found that not only was he hungry, he was very hungry.  He pulled two forks out of the drawer, laid one of them on top of the second container, leaned back against the countertop, and dug into his meal.

“Didn’t want to wait for me?” Sara said as she walked into the kitchen, clad in shorts and a form-fitting t-shirt.  Yuuri only shook his head as he took another bite.  She grabbed her container and the fork Yuuri had left out for her and leaned against the counter beside him.

“You took too long,” he murmured as he twirled a forkful of pasta in the sauce and took another bite.  She merely hummed as she cut up her eggplant parmigiana and began to eat.

Once he had a few bites in him, Yuuri reached for his glass of wine and took a couple of sips, savoring the warmth slowly spreading through him.  There was something almost sinfully decadent about eating Italian takeout in his sweats while leaning against the countertop in the kitchen, elbow to elbow with Sara as she did the same.  He smiled behind his glass as he took another sip.

Abruptly, Yuuri realized that he was really going to miss her. 

His appetite vanished along with his improving mood.  Sighing, he drained the glass and set it down on the countertop, the weight of the world setting on his shoulders again.

“Whatever it is that you’re thinking, stop,” Sara said, reaching for her untouched glass and handing it to him.  “Right now, all you need to worry about is eating, okay?  I’ll call Emil when we’re done.  He might know someone who can do something to help you.  He’s got connections.”

Yuuri nodded, not trusting himself to speak right now.  Sara was right: he only thing he needed to do right now was finish dinner, even if he wasn’t really all that hungry anymore.  And get more wine. The glass Sara had handed him was getting low.  He set his takeout container down on the countertop, refilled both of their glasses, and handed Sara’s glass back to her.  Sara took a sip, leaned her head on his shoulder and hummed, letting him know that she was there for him.  He sighed, grateful for her support. 

“Eat,” she gently scolded him.  Obediently, he shoved another forkful into his mouth and chewed. 

Rain began drumming against the kitchen window, but Yuuri didn’t care.  Not at the moment.  The outside world and all of its concerns didn’t matter.  Right now, he had the comfort of a good friend and that was enough. 

 

* * *

 

Sleep proved to be elusive, thanks no doubt to his unplanned nap on the couch earlier in the day.  Normally, Yuuri crashed early and slept like the dead after he got back from field work.  But this time, he lay in bed, curled under the covers, wide awake and listening to the rain outside.  He pulled his phone off the nightstand and checked the time.  2:32am.  Damn.

 _Good thing I don’t have to be anywhere tomorrow,_ he thought darkly.  Yuuri lay in bed, listening to the peach tree outside as its branches swayed in the wind and brushed back and forth across the window.  There were a number of small, green peaches on the tree and he wondered if any of them would make it through the storm.  He’d been hoping that they’d actually get some peaches off the tree this year, but now he wondered if he’d even be here long enough to see any of them begin to ripen.

Frowning, he took his glasses off the nightstand and put them on.  Once he could see properly, he opened up Twitter and looked for Mari’s feed.  He’d only signed up in the first place to keep in touch with her.  If only he’d left it at that… 

Yuuri rolled over and scrolled through her feed, looking at her tweets.  Her most recent tweets were only a couple of days old and talked about how hot it was already in Tokyo.  He knew it was just after 3:30 in the afternoon for her.  Was she at work, or was it her day off?  He had no way of knowing until he contacted her.  Quickly, before he could think better of it, he fired off a text to her. ~~~~

**Y: Can you FaceTime?  I really need to talk to you.**

**M: I’m on duty.  Can only text.  You’re up late.  Are you okay?**

**Y: Got fired, probably being deported.  Can I stay with you for a little while if I need to?**

**M: WHAT??!  OMFG!  I’m so sorry!  You know you can stay with me as long as you need.  Email me and tell me what happened, okay?  I have to go.  Love you!**

Yuuri wrote her a brief email, telling her what had taken place.  By the time he was done, exhaustion had finally caught up to him again.  It was all he could do to keep his eyes open as he turned off the alarms on his phone and laid it down on his pillow. 

 

* * *

 

It was past noon when Yuuri finally got up, his glasses still on his face and his phone next to him on the bed.  He thought Sara might have briefly stuck her head in and let him know she was leaving, but he wasn’t sure.  He might have dreamed it.  Last night, she’d offered to work from home today if he needed her to stick around, but he didn’t want to inconvenience her any more than he already had. ~~~~

After he showered, he wandered downstairs, grabbed an apple, and ate it on the couch.  The whole time, he was very conscious of the document box he’d left on the floor.  He knew he needed to go through it and determine what to keep and what to get rid of.  Well, no time like the present… ~~~~

Yuuri sat down on the floor and started going through the box.  He hadn’t taken many personal effects to work with him, since he was out in the field so much, so the box was only half full.  And he was pretty sure that he didn’t want to keep everything he’d brought home with him.  He’d been so upset yesterday that he’d just blindly shoveled the contents of his desk into the box and left.

His father’s favorite sweater, a well-worn black and grey cardigan, was neatly folded on top of the box.  He’d kept it at work, on the back of his chair, ready for the days when the air conditioning was freezing cold.  Gently, reverently, Yuuri pulled it out and set it down in his lap, his thumb tracing over its soft, thick knitting.  After almost twenty years, it was definitely the worse for wear and had been repaired more than once, but there was no way he would ever part with it.   

Next, Yuuri removed the small potted cactus that Celestino had given him on his first day at the CDC.  It was a hardy little thing, still about the same size as it had been when Celestino had presented it to him.  His former supervisor had given it to him to remind him that no matter how tough the situation, he could always persevere.

Yuuri frowned to himself.  Celestino left a month ago to take a position in Geneva.  The CDC fired him yesterday.  So much for having the perseverance to see the job through… 

The cactus went in the kitchen window; the silverware and chopsticks went in the sink.  Yuuri put the pens on the counter in the kitchen, next to the grocery list, and the souvenir magnets from his field assignments went on the refrigerator.  Yuuri tossed the restaurant menus in the trash.

There were several pads of sticky notes, most of which were plain and boring.  But there was one pad, most of which he’d used, that was puppy-shaped.  He was about to put them in the ‘keep’ pile until he remembered that they were one of the things Craig had put in his stocking their last Christmas together.  Sighing, Yuuri took one last look at the sticky notes and put them in the ‘trash’ pile.

When he found an unopened box of business cards, Yuuri was tempted to just throw them away without opening them.  It would be better this way, he knew, but in the end, he opened them.  He pulled the lid off the small box and took one card out, looking at the agency’s logo and his name and title one more time.  Tears prickled at the corners of his eyes and he quickly put the lid back on the box and put them in the ‘trash’ pile.  He had no use for these anymore.  Besides, if he wanted to save any, he still had a few in his messenger bag upstairs.  He could clean that out this evening.

Finally he reached the bottom of the box and came to the photos he’d had up at his cubicle.  There were only a few photos, all of them featuring his friends and family:  Emil with his arms around Sara at the Botanical Gardens; Phichit grinning madly as he held up his diploma at his graduation; Mari and several other doctors standing on a beach at the end of an assignment with Doctors Without Borders;  Minako, still willowy and graceful as ever, putting a new set of children through lessons in her studio. 

Behind those photos were older ones that had once been pinned to the wall.  Yuuri was in a couple of them.  There was one of his first Halloween with the CDC.  Leo had thrown a party at his house that weekend and encouraged people to dress like zombies.  Yuuri thought Leo made the most convincing zombie out of all of them with his tattered clothing and vacant stare.  Guang-Hong had taken the smoky eye effect a little too far and was more sultry than spooky.  Even Celestino had gotten in on it, wearing his long hair down and tangled, snarling at the camera.  Yuuri thought he just looked silly with his tousled hair and long, “blood-stained” white lab coat. 

In the back of the pile, there was a picture of Craig in the backyard, holding Bella in his lap when she was just a puppy.  They’d taken it the day they brought her home from the shelter.  Once, it had been framed on his desk, right next to the picture of his family, but that was a long time ago. 

Craig had taken Bella with him when he moved out. 

In fairness, Yuuri knew it was probably better for Bella to be with Craig than with him, but he still missed her terribly.  He spent so much time away from home, and until Sara moved in, he would have had to board her at the local kennel while he was out in the field or get a pet sitter.  Neither option would have been good for her. 

Sighing, Yuuri tossed the picture in the trash.  He had a digital copy and could reprint it later if he wanted.    

Once the document box was empty, he looked around the living room.  Huett had told him that he had a month to get his things in order, that he was basically being thrown out of the country.  Most of the furniture here was his, purchased after he got the job at the CDC.  If Huett made good on her threat and he did have to leave, what was he supposed to do with all of this?  He could put it in storage, but what if he never came back to America?  Keeping furniture in storage in a country he might never return to was ridiculous.  And having it shipped to Japan would be expensive, probably more expensive than simply replacing it.  Not to mention that it would be hard to find a large enough apartment to put it all in.  Space was at a premium in Japan, especially Tokyo, if that’s where he ended up settling down.  And this was just the living room, with its overstuffed couch and coffee and end tables and the bookshelves lining the walls.  Add in the dining room table and chairs, plus his bedframe and the cherrywood dresser and matching nightstands-  

Yuuri blew out a breath.   He had no choice.  If he couldn’t stay in America, he had to pare down.  And he had a month to do it.

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed.  Was it too early for a glass of wine?

 

* * *

 

When Emil came over later that evening, he walked straight over to Yuuri as he made dinner in the kitchen and hugged him, completely without warning. 

It took Yuuri by surprise and he almost dropped his tongs in the oil.  He shouldn’t have been too surprised: Emil was a lot more tactile than he was.  He’d only been on the receiving end of Emil’s hugs a couple of times before, but each one had left a lasting impression on him.  Every hug Emil gave was warm and genuine and left you feeling better once it was done.

“I’m so sorry, Yuuri,” Emil said once he finally let Yuuri go.  “What they did to you is bullshit.”

The three of them talked about Yuuri’s situation over dinner.  As it turned out, Emil didn’t know anyone who’d ever been in Yuuri’s predicament.  He’d talked to a friend of his who was an attorney and she said Yuuri could fight and possibly even sue for wrongful termination, but that he should be prepared to have to leave the country and do it from Japan.  She didn’t think Yuuri could challenge it while he was still in America.

He wasn’t terribly surprised by the results.  His own internet searches had resulted in similar findings.  It shouldn’t hurt, but there’d been just that little glimmer of hope…  Yuuri thanked Emil for his efforts, resigning himself to the fact that he would have to leave the country that had been his home for almost half his life. 

Given the circumstances under which he was leaving, Yuuri wasn’t entirely certain he wanted to fight for the right to come back.  America had seemed exciting and welcoming to him when he was a college freshman, but now?  It didn’t even feel like the same country anymore.  And many of the people he’d worked with at the CDC who weren’t Americans left when the new administration took power in January.  Georgi had taken a position with the Pasteur Institute back in his native Russia, Marlene had taken a teaching position in Leipzig.  Even Guang-Hong had talked about going home, much to Leo’s dismay. 

It just wasn’t the same anymore.

Maybe going back to Japan was the best thing for him after all. 

 

* * *

 

Yuuri wasn’t sure what Sara was going to do when he left and it bothered him.  He knew she couldn’t afford the townhouse on her own.  Emil couldn’t move in: he’d bought his small house a couple of years ago, right before he met Sara.  Would she get another roommate?  Yuuri felt like it was his responsibility to help her find someone new, if that’s what she wanted, or help her get into a new place.  He caused all of this; he should fix it.  But he didn’t know what she wanted to do.  After Emil had gone back to his own home with the return of the work week, he decided to talk to her about it. 

“Do you want me to find someone else to take over my part of the lease and move in?” he asked her as they sat on the couch one evening after dinner.

Sara leaned back into the cushions and sighed. 

“You don’t need to do that, Yuuri,” she said quietly.  “Look, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while, anyway.”  She gave him a small, sheepish smile.

“A couple of months ago, Emil asked me to move in with him when our lease was up here.”

Sara had never mentioned this before.  Now it was Yuuri’s turn to lean back and sigh.

“I see,” he murmured.  “Have you made a decision yet?  I don’t want my shitty circumstances to force you into something you’re not ready for or don’t want to do-”

Sara shook her head and held up her finger. 

“I told him then I’d have to think about it, and I have.  I already made my decision before all this happened, so don’t think this is because of you, okay?  I’ve decided that I’m going to move in with him.  I think I’m ready to try again.”  She got a faraway look in her eyes and her smile broadened, lighting up her whole face.  She almost seemed to glow. 

“I think we’re ready.”

Yuuri sighed again, relieved. 

“I’m happy for you both, Sara.  Really I am.”  He leaned forward and set his glass on the table.  “So it’s getting serious then?”

“Yeah, you could say that,” Sara replied, pulling her hair back over one shoulder.  “I think Emil could be the one.”

“Oh, Sara, that’s wonderful!”  He hugged her, genuinely happy for the first time since he’d been fired.  Sara had been through so much and had dated more than her share of crappy guys.  He was glad things between Sara and Emil were advancing.  “You deserve to be happy.”

“Thank you,” Sara whispered.  “You deserve to be happy, too.”

Yuuri sighed and swallowed the lump gathering in his throat.  He pulled away and forced a tight smile.  What he wanted or needed didn’t matter right now.  What mattered was that Sara was going to be okay- no, more than okay; Sara was going to be great.

“You know, Yuuri,” Sara said, poking him on the knee with her finger, “my Aunt Sophia used to say that sometimes God or the Universe or whatever gives us a wonderful gift, but puts it in really ugly wrapping paper.  I’ve been thinking…  Maybe getting fired, as screwed up as it is, is your wonderful gift in really ugly wrapping paper.  For all you know, something fantastic could be out there, just waiting for you to find it.”

Yuuri reached for his glass and took another sip.

“I hope you’re right,” he said after a moment.  “But I’ve got to say, if it is, this has got to be some of the ugliest fucking wrapping paper I’ve ever seen.”

Next to him, Sara laughed and he laughed with her.  He was glad she was going to be okay.  He could deal with the rest later.  Life would go on without him, just as it should.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri had a ritual: whenever he was about to move, he indulged in all of the foods he loved that he would leave behind.  When he was a month away from moving to America for college, he’d stuffed himself on Tokyo’s best onigiri and takoyaki.  Minako had even made him katsudon. 

As an undergrad in Detroit, he’d explored the differences in Japanese and American sushi, and had even come to like California Rolls.  In Baltimore, he and Phichit had braved the snow and binged on chicken and waffles after exams. 

His residency and subsequent fellowship in Atlanta has introduced him to chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes with cream gravy, fried okra, and the most heavenly of desserts, peach cobbler.  One night, Emil and Sara took him out to dinner and all he had was a dish of warm peach cobbler with a scoop of vanilla ice cream on the side.

“I’m an adult, I can eat what I want,” he teased Sara when she lightly admonished him for having dessert for dinner. 

In two weeks, he’d be in Tokyo again.  Even if he could find a place that served these wonderful American dishes, it wouldn’t be the same.  And even if the food was just as good, which he doubted it would be, Sara wouldn’t be on the other side of the table, stealing pieces of his precious fried okra off his plate.  Phichit wouldn’t be there to give him grief and ask him if he wanted a side of waffles with his syrup.  And his mother wouldn’t be there to serve him bowls of deliciously fattening homemade katsudon, complete with the peas she added in an attempt to sneak more vegetables into his diet. 

It wasn’t the food he missed so much as the people he shared them with.  He looked across the table at Emil and Sara as they split a piece of pecan pie at the end of dinner, wanting to savor this moment as long as he could.  Quietly, he took out his phone and snapped a picture.  When he got settled, he was printing this one out.  He wanted to remember these moments forever. 

Emil smiled at him as he cut off a bite.

“Want some?” he asked.  “It’s pretty good.”

Yuuri smiled as he accepted the bite. 

 

* * *

 

Yuuri looked at the storage unit and sighed.  It seemed wrong that, at thirty-two years of age, everything he owned could fit into a 5 x 10 storage unit, with room to spare.  He’d sold the cherrywood dresser and matching nightstands, as well as the living room furniture that Sara didn’t want or couldn’t take.  Emil’s house was small and they only had so much room.  She’d taken most of his pots and pans, but the glasses and dishes went to a children’s home.  A women’s shelter had gladly taken his towels and linens.  Emil had volunteered to drop off his bookshelves at a thrift store.  All he had left were his books, some clothes, and a few small mementos from his childhood, including all of the medals he’d won ice skating.  He could buy everything else he needed when he settled down again, wherever that ended up being. 

He still had a few of his mother’s kitchen utensils: a set of cooking tongs, some scoops, a couple of ladles, and her well-worn donabe.  Craig tried to get rid of them after they moved into the townhouse, saying they were old and battered and they could replace them with new ones.  But to Yuuri, they would always be more precious than gold. 

Two days before his flight, Yuuri did the final walkthrough on the townhouse with the leasing agent.  He’d spent the weekend scrubbing everything and it was probably cleaner now than when he’d moved in.  Normally, he would have expected to get at least part of the deposit back, but because he was breaking the lease, they not only kept all of his deposit, but they also charged him an extra month’s rent.  Sara offered to help pay the fees, but Yuuri declined.

“If I hadn’t gotten fired, none of this would have happened,” he told her as they made sandwiches for lunch at Emil’s house- well, Emil and Sara’s house, now.  He was grateful they were letting him stay with them until he flew out.  The guest bedroom was usually Emil’s office and the spare bed was really a fold-out couch, but it was fairly comfortable and, best of all, free.  Yuuri felt like he was hemorrhaging money and, with no income, he was beginning to worry about everything going out.

The next day, Yuuri returned his car to the dealership.  He was able to get out of the lease on his car, but there were hefty penalties the dealership piled on him for early termination of his contract.  Yuuri hated writing such a large check for what amounted to essentially nothing, but it needed to be done.  This was his fault, and some mistakes were costlier than others. 

Sara insisted on throwing him a party before he left.  “You have friends here, Yuuri,” she told him, “and they want to wish you well.”  He finally agreed, but asked her to keep it small.  In the end, there were only seven people total, including the three of them, so it was fairly quiet, and more like a casual get together than a full-fledged party.  Leo and Guang-Hong came by, as well as a couple of other people he’d worked with at the CDC.  The general consensus from his former coworkers was that everyone at the agency was paranoid now, looking over their shoulders in constant fear of losing their jobs.  Yuuri couldn’t help but be reminded of Celestino’s going away party, a little over two months ago. 

“This place isn’t what it used to be, Yuuri,” Celestino had said softly, staring into the depths of his drink.  He’d pulled Yuuri into a corner, away from everyone else, to talk to him privately. 

“The writing’s on the wall.  You’re a bright young man, passionate about the work you do.  Perhaps it’s time for you to look elsewhere for other opportunities.  It’s a big world out there, Yuuri, don’t limit yourself.” 

He hadn’t understood what Celestino had meant at the time, but now, looking back…  Had Celestino been trying to warn him?  Did he know he was part of Rogue CDC?  Yuuri sighed and downed the rest of his beer.  Too late to ask him now. 

“Leo,” Yuuri murmured as he pulled another bottle out of the cooler, “did they ever talk to you about…  umm, you know…”  Even now, he didn’t want to say the words, didn’t want to mention the Twitter account that had gotten him fired.  And he didn’t want to implicate that Leo had anything to do with it, in case someone here overheard and decided to use it against him.

Leo shook his head.  “No,” he replied, “but it’s gotten out that’s why you were let go.”  He took a long pull off of his own bottle and looked down at the ground.

“We’ve decided not to use it anymore.  It’s too risky, you know?”

“The burgers are ready!” Emil called from the grill, effectively ending Yuuri’s conversation with Leo, but he understood why they would abandon the account.  One of them had gotten burned: they didn’t all need to go down in flames.

Towards the end of the evening, after everyone had eaten their fill, Emil gathered the group together and they all took turns telling their favorite stories about Yuuri.  Most of them were funny and made people laugh.  But when Sara talked about what Yuuri had done for her, all the laughter died away.

“A couple of years ago,” Sara began, “I was living in Orlando.   I was engaged to be married and my fiancé decided to call things off a week before the wedding.” She dropped her gaze and bit her lip.  Emil took her hand and squeezed it, providing silent support.

“I- I had to move out.  I was going to move in with my brother, but he was giving me so much shit, saying no one was good enough for me and I should have expected it...”  Sara broke off, tears flowing freely down her face.

“Anyway, I called Yuuri in the middle of the night, crying.  I didn’t want to move in with my brother.  I told Yuuri I just felt like what I really needed was a fresh start.  That weekend, as I was getting ready to move in with Mickey, I- I got a call from Yuuri.  He’d gotten on a plane and flew to Orlando.  ‘Give me directions to your apartment,’ he said.  ‘I’m renting a U-Haul now.’  I thought, ‘Are you crazy?’  But we all know sometimes Yuuri flies off the handle.”

A small laugh went up and Yuuri shrugged his shoulders. 

“Two hours later,” Sara continued, “Yuuri was in the parking lot.  We were loading the last of my stuff in the truck when Seung-Gil, my ex-fiancé, got home.  And Yuuri… Yuuri was so tired and so pissed off that he told Seung-Gil off to his face.” Sara smiled at him, tears flowing down her cheeks.

“That was the kindest thing anyone’s ever done for me.  You’re a wonderful person, Yuuri.”

When she hugged him, he broke down and cried.          

“Hey,” Guang-Hong drunkenly blurted into the quiet that had fallen over everyone, “I heard you told that woman from DC to fuck off.  Is that true?”

Yuuri winced.  Where in the hell had Guang-Hong heard that?  He hadn’t told a soul what happened, not even Phichit in one of their many FaceTime talks.  Who leaked it?  It couldn’t have been Strassberg and it certainly wasn’t Huett.  It must have been Preston… Yuuri let out a short bark of a laugh.  Trust HR to spring a damn leak…

“Oh my God, Yuuri, did you say that?” Sara asked at the same time that Leo yelped, “Holy shit, Yuuri!  That took some massive _cojones_!”

And just like that, everyone was laughing again.

“Hey, let’s take a picture!” Yuuri said.  Everyone squeezed in together to fit inside the photo. 

Yuuri looked at the picture afterwards, pleases that everyone looked so happy.  This would be another one to print once he got settled. 

 

* * *

 

In the small hours of the morning before his flight, Yuuri stood outside on the back patio, unable to sleep.  His anxiety was working on him again and he could feel his heart hammering in his chest just like it had been all night.  He sat down in one of the patio chairs and watched as the sky gradually grew lighter in the east.  Birds came out to sing and already he could feel the stifling heat of the day beginning to rise. 

In his pocket, his phone buzzed.  Yuuri pulled it out and saw that it was a text from Minako, wanting to know his flight information.  He texted it to her and slipped his phone back in his pocket.  He was grateful Minako would be there to meet him in Tokyo and to give him Mari’s spare key.  Yuuri would have liked to have seen his sister, but she’d flown out a few days ago.  He’d have her tiny apartment all to himself for six weeks, when she was due to return from her latest stint volunteering with Doctors Without Borders.  Hopefully, by then, he would have figured something out.  But the thought of starting all over again was crushing, like a physical weight pushing down on his chest, making it hard to breathe or think-

Inside the house, Yuuri heard the alarm clock go off and sighed.  There were only a few hours left before he was due to leave, but there was one more thing he could do for Emil and Sara to thank them for their friendship and kindness.  Quietly, he headed back inside and started breakfast.

 

* * *

 

A few hours later, Yuuri stood in the airport in front of the first checkpoint, suitcases in hand and messenger bag slung over his shoulder, trying not to break down and cry.  Sara stood beside him, her eyes shining with unshed tears.  This was as far as she could go with him before security made it clear that only passengers were allowed beyond this point.  With a sniffle, she turned and hugged him.

“Text me when you land in Tokyo, okay?” she murmured into his shoulder.  Yuuri nodded his assent, afraid to trust his voice.  When Sara pulled away, he hooked both of his hands on the strap of his messenger bag.

“If he’s the one,” Yuuri whispered harshly around the lump in his throat, “you’d better invite me to the wedding.  I’ll come back for that.”

Sara gave him a tight smile, tears flowing freely down her face, and nodded.

“If he’s the one,” she said, her voice strained, “you’re coming back to be in the wedding party, okay?  I- I want you to be one of my bridesmen.”

“Of course.  I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Sara smiled at him through her tears.

“I know this seems awful now,” she said, “but I think good things are on the way for you.”

“I hope you’re right,” he whispered, forcing a smile of his own.  He was not going to cry.  He didn’t want the last impression she had of him to be one where he was crying.

She leaned over and tenderly kissed his cheek.  “Be good to yourself, Yuuri,” she whispered, her breath warm against his ear.

Then she turned and hurriedly walked back towards the entrance to the airport, leaving him standing in the middle of the gate, the tears he’d fought so hard against rolling down his face.  He watched her walk out the doors and disappear into the brewing heat of an Atlanta morning.

Quickly, Yuuri wiped the tears from his face with the back of his hand.  People flowed neatly around him as he took several deep, calming breaths.  A few moments later, when he felt ready, he joined the crowd, towing his suitcases behind him as he headed towards International Departures.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the kudos, comments, and follows. You guys have no idea how much they mean to me. Feedback is worth its weight in gold, baby!
> 
> For purposes of this story, everyone is nine years older than they are in canon. 
> 
> The next update will be on Wednesday. See you then!
> 
> [I'm on Tumblr](http://paintingwithwords.tumblr.com). Hit me up...


	4. Tokyo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Your parents would have been so proud of you, Yuuri. They would have been proud of both of you, going on to become doctors-”
> 
> There was no way his parents would be proud of him now, not after the way things had ended.
> 
> Yuuri reached for the small glass in front of him and quickly drained it. 
> 
> “I’ve come home in disgrace,” Yuuri muttered. “I got fired from the one job I ever wanted-”
> 
> “You act like you’re the only person who ever got shitcanned,” Minako slurred. “Plenty of other people have been let go. Quit wallowing.”

Yuuri slipped the strap of his messenger bag over his shoulder and got up from his seat.    It had been a long flight, followed by a long bus ride from Narita to Tokyo, and he was glad that this leg of the journey was finally over.  He got off the bus, scanning the crowd for Minako.  He was still looking for her when a hand grabbed his wrist, startling him. 

“Yuuri!” Minako said, “I’ve been yelling at you for almost a minute!  Didn’t you hear me?”

“N-no,” Yuuri admitted, tugging down his surgical mask.  The swarm of people around him was disorienting. 

“Well, don’t worry about it.  I’m just glad to see you again!  Come on, let’s go get your bags!”  Minako took him by the hand and began towing him towards the suitcases being unloaded from the bus.

Minako had quit coloring her hair, and Yuuri thought she looked much better with her natural silver highlights.  The effect, especially when she tossed her hair back over her shoulder and smiled at him, was striking. 

“Thank you for meeting me here today, Minako,” Yuuri said, grateful and guilty.  “Did you have to cancel classes?”

Minako smiled, let go of his hand, and spun on the ball of her foot, an impressive feat considering the heels she was wearing.  But she wasn’t as fast as he remembered her being and it made his heart ache.  Time would catch them all, wouldn’t it?

“No, Yuuri, not today.  I only teach three days a week now.  I’d love to do more, but I’m not quite as limber as I used to be, and I feel it a whole lot more than used to.  But we can talk about that later.  Right now we need to get your things so we can get out of here!”

They sat down together on a bench by the platform where the bags were being unloaded.  He opened up his phone and sent Sara the text he’d promised her, letting her know he’d arrived.  It would be late in Atlanta, but she would see it when she got up in the morning. 

“It’s been awhile since you’ve been home, Yuuri,” Minako said as he put his phone away.  Yuuri nodded, not really sure where home was anymore.  Once it had been Japan, but after so many years away, he didn’t know.  He’d never stayed anywhere long enough to put down roots, except in Atlanta.  Had it not been for his own stupidity, he’d still be there.

“Have you made any plans yet?” Minako asked, excited.  “Are you back for good?”

“I don’t know yet,” he said.  He had no idea what he was going to do outside of the next few hours.  At the moment, his only future plans involved getting his luggage, heading to Mari’s apartment, and going to sleep.  After a fourteen hour flight, he knew jetlag was going to kick his ass.

“You know, you could stay in Japan,” Minako said as more suitcases were unloaded onto the platform. 

Yuuri hummed noncommittally.  Was she going to start this now? 

People crowded around, waiting to snatch their bags and hustle off towards the trains, but Yuuri was content to stay seated and wait.  Flying long distances always took it out of him.

“Eh, I guess you can worry about that later,” Minako said.  They fell silent until he saw his suitcases unloaded from the bus and placed on the platform, luckily one right after the other.  He got up, intending to take both of them, but Minako snagged the smaller one and towed it behind her.  He let her lead the way out of the train station towards the bank of waiting taxis outside.

Minako procured one for them and the driver loaded his bags in the trunk as they slid into the back seat.

“Where to?” the driver asked.  Before Yuuri could give him Mari’s address, Minako rattled off the name of a restaurant.  The driver nodded and, after a few seconds, they smoothly entered traffic, heading off into the crowded streets of Tokyo.

“I thought we’d get something to eat first,” Minako said in answer to Yuuri’s questioning look.  “You’ve been away a long time, Yuuri.  It’s been too long since you’ve had real food, and don’t try to tell me otherwise.” She poked him in the side and raised a well-manicured eyebrow at him.  Yuuri leaned back in the seat and suppressed a sigh.  Same old Minako, still fixated on her waistline and everyone else’s, too.  Some things would never change.

When they got to the restaurant, Yuuri paid and thanked the driver and pulled his luggage out of the back.  He really would have preferred to have gone to Mari’s, but there was no arguing with Minako.  He dragged his bags into the cramped restaurant and followed Minako to the counter.

Even as she was sitting down, the waitress greeted her warmly and asked her if she wanted her usual.  Minako nodded.

“The same for him, too,” Minako said, indicating Yuuri as he sat down beside her.

The waitress smiled and headed towards the back.   Yuuri barely had time to shrug out of his jacket before she returned and set a small carafe of warmed sake and a pair of cups down in front of them.  A moment later, she brought out two plates with tuna and salmon nigiri.  Yuuri took his chopsticks and ate one of the salmon ones, humming with delight as he chewed.  He had to admit, it was delicious.  It had been a long time since he’d had proper sushi.

“You shouldn’t let what happened get you down,” Minako said halfway through their meal.  “You’re young and very successful and you could easily get a job here.  There are a lot of hospitals right here in Tokyo and-”

“I’m not really sure what I want to do yet,” Yuuri interrupted gently.  “I know Mari likes working in hospitals, but I didn’t enjoy it as much as she does.  I loved what I was doing for the CDC.”

“I know,” Minako murmured.  “And I know that you can’t do that here.  When problems like the ones you solve come up, we call the Americans and they send someone over.  Sometimes, I used to wish something would happen and they’d send you.  At least that way I’d get to see you again.”

Yuuri looked down at his plate, shocked at what had just come out of Minako’s mouth.  He’d missed Minako and he’d been terribly remiss about coming back to Japan, but to wish for an outbreak of a disease just so she could see him?  It was incredibly selfish.  People died when these things happened.  He eyed her critically and realized that there was another carafe of sake in front of her.  He shook his head and looked away.  Some things never change.

“I really hope you didn’t mean what you just said,” he murmured.

“That- that came out wrong,” she answered.  “You should know better than anyone that I don’t want to wish ill on other people.  I- I just meant that I miss you.  So does your sister.”  Minako fixed him with a glassy-eyed stare.

“Your parents would have been so proud of you, Yuuri.  They would have been proud of both of you, going on to become doctors-”

There was no way his parents would be proud of him now, not after the way things had ended.

Yuuri reached for the small glass in front of him and quickly drained it. 

“I’ve come home in disgrace,” Yuuri muttered.  “I got fired from the one job I ever wanted-”

“You act like you’re the only person who ever got shitcanned,” Minako slurred.  “Plenty of other people have been let go.  Quit wallowing.”

Yuuri said nothing. There was nothing he could say.  He knew this was Minako’s peculiar brand of pep talk.  Quietly he ate the last two pieces of nigiri on his plate and set his chopsticks down.  All he wanted to do now was go to Mari’s and go to bed.

Thankfully, Minako didn’t seem to be a talkative mood anymore either.  She drained the rest of the sake and paid the bill.  Yuuri let her.  He just wanted to disappear and sleep.

Soon they were in another taxi and Yuuri watched Tokyo roll by.  Before long, they were pulling up to a residential block of high-rise apartments.  This time, he paid the driver as Minako stood on the sidewalk, waiting for him to get his bags out of the trunk.  She didn’t take any of the suitcases from him to lighten his load.  He could have cut the tension with a knife.

He followed Minako through the lobby to the elevators and watched as she hit the button for Mari’s floor.  They rode up in silence, the strap of his messenger bag digging painfully into his shoulder.

Minako stepped off the elevator first and Yuuri hauled his suitcases after her.  Her air of disapproval was like a fog following in her wake, freezing him out.  She waited for him at the door, then fished a key out of her small purse and handed it to him.

Once they were inside, Minako stepped out of her heels and Yuuri followed suit, leaving his shoes and suitcases in the entrance.  He’d known Mari’s apartment would be small, but it had been a long time since he’d been in a Japanese apartment and the difference between this and what he’d just left in America were startling.

Mari’s apartment was little more than a long and narrow one-room efficiency, probably smaller than the one he’d had his first year in college.  There was a small bathroom and a tiny excuse for a kitchen off to the side.  At the end of the room, there was a balcony that spanned the width of the apartment. 

The only pieces of furniture in the room were a bed and a nightstand.  Mari didn’t even have a chair.  Several storage containers were tucked underneath the bed and a large television hung on the opposite wall surrounded by a multitude of framed photos.  She had a framed copy of their last family photo on her wall, as well as photos of people and places he didn’t recognize, most of which were from her time spent volunteering with Doctors Without Borders.

The kitchen had a refrigerator and a small, two burner stove.  Their mother’s old rice cooker sat on the counter.  Two cabinets held all of Mari’s dishes, cooking implements, and food.

It was a far cry from the spacious townhouse he’d just left in Atlanta.  Hell, he’d been in hotel rooms bigger than this!  And, until he figured something out, this tiny crackerbox of an apartment was his home.  He should quit judging and be grateful.

“You should figure out what you’re going to do, Yuuri,” Minako said, sitting down heavily on the bed.  “There’s no reason for you to think that everything is over for you.  You’re a doctor, and there are plenty of positions here for someone with your skills.”

Yuuri sat down next to her.  He was not in the mood to deal with Minako’s meddling.  He was tired and jetlagged and all he wanted to do was curl up on the bed and sleep.  But it would be impolite to ask Minako to leave after all she had done for him today.  The least he could do was hear her out, no matter how painful it was.

“I know you’re right,” he murmured, “but it’s kind of hard to face.  I’m not sure what to do, and this past month I’ve had to deal with getting rid of almost everything that I owned and getting ready to come here.  I haven’t had time to think about what to do next.”

“Well, you have time now, so make use of it,” Minako replied, her voice sharp.  “Mari will be back in five weeks and I know you two shared a room for a couple of years when we moved from Hasetsu, but now you’re both adults and this apartment isn’t big enough for the two of you.”

Yuuri nodded in agreement.  It was barely big enough for one. 

“I just need a little time to figure out what to do next, that’s all.”

“Don’t take too long.”  Minako looked at her watch and sighed.  “I need to go.  Early morning at the studio tomorrow.  And the damn trains take forever.”  She stood up and headed for the door.  Yuuri followed her.

“Thank you again for coming to get me today.”                                                     

“Of course,” she replied, then patted his cheek affectionately.  “You look tired.  Get some sleep.”

After she left, Yuuri peeled off his clothes and left them in a heap outside the bathroom.  He’d been wearing them for almost twenty-four hours now, and he felt tired and dirty.  He took a long shower, letting the warm water wash the grime and tension of travel away.  Once he finally felt clean, he turned off the water, dried off, and padded over to his suitcase to get something to wear to bed.  He pulled on a pair of boxer briefs and decided that was enough.  Turning off all the lights, he crawled into Mari’s bed and fell into a dreamless sleep.

 

* * *

 

A week after he arrived back in Japan, Yuuri sat at a sushi counter a few blocks from Mari’s apartment, a plate of freshly-made sushi in front of him.  He ate a piece of picked radish roll and slowly chewed it, savoring the flavors.  He knew it was indulgent to go out for sushi three times in just this week alone, he didn’t really regret it.  Yuuri followed the bite with a small piece of pickled ginger, letting its spiciness cleanse his palate.  He picked up the next piece when the door opened, bringing with it the sound of laughter and pouring rain.

Yuuri turned and watched the door slide closed behind a young couple shaking off the rain.  So, the rain that had threatened since he returned had finally arrived.  Yuuri smirked.  Dark clouds had been gathering for days, always promising rain but never delivering.  Now the weather was making up for it, dumping rain in a torrential downpour.  It figured it would be the one day he’d left the umbrella in Mari’s apartment. 

He turned back to his plate and quietly ate the rest of his roll, hoping it would let up some by the time he left.  By the time he set the chopsticks down on the empty plate, Yuuri found he was craving a California Roll.  The rich fattiness of avocado and cream cheese paired with the salty tang of salmon roe would be really nice right now.  But the only way he’d get that was if he made it himself. 

A stop by the market was definitely in order on the way back to Mari’s.  Avocadoes would be expensive, as was most produce in Japan, but they would be worth it.  And he could actually save money if he bought everything he needed and made food at home instead of going out.

The rain outside showed no interest in letting up.  The sidewalks were practically empty save for the occasional brave soul dashing from awning to awning or the pedestrian who had wisely brought an umbrella.  Yuuri could join the ranks of those running for cover or he could just walk, heedless of the rain, and not worry about it.  Even if he ran all the way to the market, which he doubted he could do, he would be soaked well before he got there.

Sighing, Yuuri exited the restaurant and calmly walked outside into the downpour as though it wasn’t even there.  A few people gave him odd looks as he slowly walked in the rain, but he didn’t really care.

At the market, Yuuri picked out two fist-sized avocadoes and a couple of cucumbers, his shoes squishing with every step.  They didn’t have any cream cheese, but that was probably just as well.  He walked back to Mari’s flat in the rain, the plastic bag from the market tucked under his arm and his hair plastered to his head.  A woman sharing an umbrella with a young boy, presumably her son, walked past him.  Yuuri heard her mutter, “Don’t be like that man.  That is the face of someone who has given up.”

Yuuri was grateful that the rain hid his tears.  It wasn’t that he’d given up, it was that he was at a complete loss.  He didn’t know what to do.

He walked into Mari’s apartment, peeled off his sodden clothing, and dropped the garments in the tub to deal with later.  He put the avocadoes and cucumbers in the refrigerator and crawled into bed.  Yuuri rolled over on his side and buried his face in the pillow as he cried, grateful that no one was around to see or hear him.

He knew he should be looking for a job.  His money would eventually run out and Mari would come home soon and rightfully want her apartment back.  He couldn’t rely on his sister’s charity forever.  But he didn’t know what to do.  It all seemed so overwhelming, like it was too much to handle, and he didn’t even know where to start.

Yuuri pulled the covers over his head and lay there until he dozed off.  When he woke again, he walked over to the balcony and looked outside.  The rain was still coming down in sheets and showed no signs of letting up.  It was a perfect fit to his dreary mood.

But Yuuri knew he couldn’t remain in this place of despair.  He thought of what Celestino had said about accomplishing seemingly impossible tasks: you eat an elephant by taking one bite at a time.

Yuuri knew he had to take that proverbial bite.  Time was running out. ~~~~

That evening, he sat down and started working on his CV.  He’d exchanged a number of texts with Mari and she told him that they were looking for someone at her hospital who specialized in infectious diseases.  He’d done his fellowship in that field at Emory because it would make him a better epidemiologist.  He never dreamed he’d be putting it to use actually treating patients past that point.

It wasn’t what he really wanted to do, but it would do for now.  It was a job and it made money.  That was good enough for now, wasn’t it?

Yuuri put his laptop down on the bed beside him and sighed.  He really wanted to find another position as an epidemiologist.  He loved tracking down where a virus had come from and figuring out how to stop it from spreading further.  He loved solving the puzzle, even if sometimes some of the pieces were missing and the clock was ticking.  The sense of accomplishment he got from helping others and stopping outbreaks in their tracks was heady.  Nothing else in his life had ever made him feel so needed or useful. 

When his parents died right after his twelfth birthday, it made Yuuri reevaluate everything.  Their uncle took over the onsen and threw them out.  Minako had been in the process of setting up a dance studio in Tokyo with former colleagues and took them in without a moment’s hesitation.  Had none of that ever happened, Yuuri never would have thrown himself into his schoolwork, never gone to cram school.  He wouldn’t have pushed himself well past his comfort zone and managed to earn a scholarship to attend college in America. 

Had the bird flu never made its way to Hasetsu, he would have grown up with his parents in his life, maybe gone to college, probably have taken over running the inn with Mari.  He would probably be there right now, sitting at the front desk, watching the rain fall or washing another one of the endless loads of towels for guests. 

Instead, he was sitting in Mari’s apartment, watching the rain fall while he worked on his CV on his laptop, preparing for an interview his sister had gotten him next week for a job that he really didn’t want but needed.  Minako was right: he wasn’t the first person to get fired from his dream job.  There was the old saying: fall down seven times, stand up eight.  It was time to stand up again and not stay cooped up in Mari’s apartment and mope.

It might not be the job he wanted, but it would do for now.  It would give him income and the ability to get his own place to live.  He could work on finding a position as an epidemiologist once he was more financially secure.  And _that_ was enough.

With a renewed sense of purpose, Yuuri went back to work on his CV.  He _could_ do this.  He _would_ do this.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri walked out of the interview, certain than not only had he ruined his chances for the position at Mari’s hospital but that he’d probably messed things up for her as well.  His anxiety had decided to rear its ugly head the night before the interview and it had been almost impossible for him to get to sleep.  And when he did finally manage to fall asleep, he almost overslept.

He showed up disheveled, distressed, and five minutes late.  Despite that, the technical portion of the interview had gone remarkably well and he was beginning to feel good about things, like he might actually have a chance at the position.  But when they asked him why he left the CDC, things went downhill from there. 

Doctor Marita had looked at Yuuri over his glasses and frowned.  One of the other doctors hadn’t been so obvious about her displeasure, but the polite smile she’d worn the whole time faded and she put the iPad with his CV down on the table.  The rest of the interview had been mere formalities after that.  He’d gone through the motions and was actually relieved when the interview was over.

“We will be in touch,” Doctor Marita had said, but Yuuri knew a dismissal when he heard one.  All of his hopes of getting a position here were dashed.

He took the train back to Mari’s, only dimly aware of the others crowded around him.  When he got back to her apartment, he hung his suit on the clothes rack and crawled into bed.  He turned off his phone, afraid Mari would text him and ask how it went.  She put herself out there for him and he had failed her. 

Overhead, thunder rolled across the towering apartment blocks.  Yuuri could see from the bed that the sky was full of dark, swollen clouds.  In two weeks, Mari would be back, and he was no closer to finding employment than he had been before.

Minako came by that evening with dinner and a bottle of sake, admonishing him for turning off his phone.  She told him to look at the failed interview as practice and to hit the ground running again.

“I remember when you were just a little boy and your mother brought you to the studio for the first time,” she said, passing the bottle of sake back to him.  Yuuri took it from her and took a healthy pull off of it before settling it between his knees.

“I thought to myself, ‘There’s no way that fat little thing will ever dance with anything resembling grace’.” She snorted and shook her head, amused at the memory.

“Oh, you were so shy, hiding behind your mother’s leg, scared to death of the other children.  You were so deep inside your shell that I afraid there was no way you’d ever come out.  But I was wrong.  I played the tape and you came to life.  You forgot all about your fear, let go of your mother’s leg, and danced with so much sheer joy that you almost made me cry.  I knew you danced with your mother in the kitchen when she cooked, but this… this was something else.  Something more.  After that first lesson, I knew you could do anything you wanted.”

Yuuri took another drink from the bottle and gave it back to Minako.  He remembered that day.  At first, Minako had seemed so stern and frightening.  He’d been terrified of her!  But when the tape played and she began to dance, she became otherworldly, beautiful and graceful.  He wanted to move like that, to be as beautiful and graceful as she was.

“When your parents died,” Minako continued, suddenly somber, “I saw just how strong and determined you really are.  I watched you get serious about school.  Before, you had been serious about skating and dancing.  Skating was your life!  If we wanted to find you, we’d go to the Ice Castle and you’d be out on the ice, practicing figures!  But once we moved to Tokyo, you gave all that up and you studied.  You studied all the time!  You learned things about biology and chemistry and you told me all about them.  You threw yourself into school the same way you had thrown yourself into ballet and skating.  And I knew that nothing could stop you, once you’d put your mind to it.”

“I know you need a break.  I know what happened today in the interview was shit.  Take a day or two off.  Go out.  Hit the clubs.  Do whatever you need to do to get your head back on straight, Yuuri.  Find your focus and determination again.”

He knew she was right.  But it was hard to find the motivation.  It was hard to get out of bed, put his CV back out there, or look at the openings in hospitals for doctors.  It was hard when he felt like he was taking what he could get instead of what he wanted. 

Yuuri took Minako’s advice and took a day off, but he barely managed to get out of bed, let alone get out of the apartment.  He lay there, listening to the rain drumming on the sliding glass door.  Maybe he had been approaching this all wrong.  He knew there weren’t many jobs available for a field epidemiologist in Japan, but there were positions in other countries.  WHO was in Switzerland and the Pasteur Institute was in France.  They both employed field epidemiologists, but none of them had any positions open at the present time. 

Next to him, his phone alerted him that someone was trying to FaceTime him.  Yuuri picked up his phone, afraid that it was Mari.  He still hadn’t called or texted her about the interview.  When he saw that it was Phichit, he quickly brushed his hair out of his face and answered. 

“S̄wạs̄dī, Phichit-kun!” he said, forcing a smile.

“Kon'nichiwa, Yuuri!"  Phichit replied, his bright smile lighting up Yuuri’s small screen.  Just seeing Phichit made Yuuri feel better.  Phichit’s good moods were infectious.

“Yuuri, are you still in bed?” Phichit asked.  “Did I get the time wrong and wake you up?”

“No,” Yuuri sighed. “I’ve been awake for awhile.”

“What time is it there?”

“Almost three,” Yuuri replied sheepishly.

“It’s _three_ and you’re still in bed?”  Immediately, Phichit’s tone changed, the cheeriness in his voice replaced by concern.

“Are you okay?  And don’t try to bullshit me, either.  I’ve known you far too long for that.”

He couldn’t hide anything from Phichit, could he?

“I- I don’t know,” Yuuri confessed.  “I had a job interview a couple of days ago for a position in a hospital and I bombed it.  What makes it worse is that Mari pulled some strings to get me the interview in the first place.  She stuck her neck out for me and I messed things up for her.”

Phichit pursed his lips and gave him a hard look. 

“I didn’t think you wanted to work in a hospital, Yuuri.”

“I don’t,” Yuuri answered.  “Not really.  I love being out in the field, in the thick of things.  You feel so vital, like what you do actually makes a difference.”

“So why did you go on an interview for a job that you really didn’t want and that you would have hated had you gotten it?” Phichit asked.  “And are you sure you bombed it?  Because I remember you coming home from a test, saying you’d ‘bombed’ it, only to find out you that you actually aced it and made the highest grade on the damn thing-”

 ~~~~“I know I bombed it, Phichit,” Yuuri interrupted.  “I was fine until they asked me why I left the CDC.”  Yuuri shrugged and frowned.  “I froze.  And every time that question comes up, I’m afraid I’m going to keep freezing, over and over again.”

“Alright, but you still haven’t answered my first question,” Phichit persisted.  “Why did you interview for a job you don’t want?

”Yuuri ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

“Obligation?”

“You felt you had to take the interview that Mari set up for you so you wouldn’t let her down, is that it?”

“Yes.” How did Phichit make it sound bad?

“Well, maybe you should interview for a job that you’re incredibly qualified for and that you might actually want instead.”

“If I could, I would,” Yuuri murmured.  “But there aren’t a lot of jobs for field epidemiologists out there, Phichit.  And there aren’t any jobs here in Japan.”

“Well, who says you have to stay there?  Why not come here?”

Yuuri’s heart skipped a beat.  Had he heard that right?  But no, there were no positions there, he’d already checked online.  Or did Phichit know something that he didn’t? 

“Phichit, there aren’t any jobs at the Pasteur Institute,” Yuuri said quietly.  “I’ve been looking-”

“You know the virus surveillance program that Viktor Nikiforov wants to start?  Well, he’s finally got the funding for it, and they’re looking to fill the last position.  It’s for an experienced field epidemiologist.  It hasn’t been posted yet.  If you play you cards right, it never will be.”

Yuuri swallowed.  Was Phichit actually saying he had a shot at a job doing field epidemiology again?  With Viktor Nikiforov?  Practically everyone knew who Viktor Nikiforov was.  He’d used mathematical models of climate change to predict where viruses would migrate, with a scary amount of success.  The chance to work with someone so brilliant-

Yuuri met him once, at a conference in Sochi a couple of years ago, right after he and Craig split up.  He’d been completely dazzled by Viktor.  He’d caught some of his appearances on television and had been impressed, but in person, Viktor was even more compelling than he was on camera.  His passion for his work was obvious, tangible.  It made Yuuri want to work harder and do a better job out in the field. 

Viktor was intelligent, committed, driven, charismatic… and he was attractive.  Very attractive.  Even if he hadn’t been physically beautiful, all the other factors would have made him attractive to Yuuri.  But his looks alone were captivating.  Pale platinum blond hair, which looked like it would be silky soft to the touch, kind and gentle eyes the color of a robin’s egg, bone structure a model would kill for… 

Oh, he was pretty, so very very pretty, and Yuuri definitely had a weakness for pretty men... 

Yuuri drank too much at the conference.  He was lonely, had an empty house to go back to in Atlanta, and Viktor was smart, so smart…  He remembered talking to Viktor at one point at the open bar, but he’d been so nervous and anxious that some part of his brain decided that it was okay to self-medicate with copious amounts of alcohol.  A couple of drinks might have been fine, taken the edge off, but Yuuri didn’t do things halfway.

He had no idea what they’d talked about, only that when Celestino found them, he’d dragged Yuuri off and hadn’t let him out of his sight for the rest of the conference.  When Phichit graduated a few months later, he moved to Paris and started working for the Pasteur Institute in Viktor’s lab.  Yuuri had wanted to ask him what it was like to work with someone like Viktor, but was afraid to.  And now he might actually have a chance?

There was no way, no way this was real. 

“Phichit,” Yuuri said carefully, “they’re not looking for someone like me-”

“Actually, they are,” Phichit countered.  “Viktor said they want to find someone who’s been adversely affected by the new American government.  No one ever said that person has to be an American.”

Yuuri bit his lower lip.   There was no way this was happening-

“I- I think that’s a technicality-”

“And it’s one you’d better run with, Yuuri, because this position has your name written all over it. You’d get to do what you love, you wouldn’t have to take a job you don’t like just because you feel some misplaced sense of obligation.”

Mari had suggested that he interview for the position at her hospital because it would get him working again.  But she liked working with people, taking care of them, fixing them when they were broken.  She lived for the thrill of interaction with others and making an immediate difference in their lives.  But he had always been more solitary and preferred working on problems that helped a large number of people.  She liked to heal the sick; he preferred to keep them from getting sick in the first place. 

“So, would you be interested in the position?” Phichit asked, trying not to smile and failing.  “It’s okay if you’re not. You can take some time to think about it if you need to.”

“No, I don’t need any time,” Yuuri said immediately.  “I’m interested.  I’m definitely interested.” 

Was this really happening?  Could there be a chance-

“Good!  Viktor will be happy to hear that!  He asked me to talk to you first before he approached you.  I’ll let him know, so expect to hear from him soon, okay?”

“Okay,” Yuuri replied, feeling almost giddy with excitement.  “Thank you for asking me.  I really appreciate it.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Phichit said.  “I’m just glad you’re not moping, you know?  You need to get back to doing the work you love.  Anything else is a waste of talent.”

Yuuri smiled, and this time it was genuine.

When they disconnected the call, Yuuri leapt out of bed and showered.  The time for lying around and feeling sorry for himself was over.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri was surprised to find that while he was in the shower, he’d received an email from Viktor Nikiforov, formally asking him if he would be interested in interviewing for the position in Paris.  He answered the email, wrapped in a towel and sitting on the edge of Mari’s bed, more excited than he’d been in almost two months. 

Within half an hour, Yuuri got another email from Viktor, asking him when he would be available for a phone interview.  He ended up doing the interview that evening and even Yuuri had to admit it went well. 

“When could you come to Paris for an interview in person?” Viktor asked as they were wrapping up the call. 

Yuuri’s mouth moved for a second, but no sound came out.  Finally, he managed, “I could be there on… Monday?  Would that work?”  Monday was four days away.  Was it too soon, or not soon enough?

Viktor’s light laugh on the other end of the line was musical and soothing.

“Perfect,” Viktor said.  “Email your flight information to me and we’ll set up a time.”

An hour later, Yuuri had booked a flight from Tokyo to Paris and sent the pertinent details to Viktor.  He’d arrive on Sunday, which wouldn’t give him much time to recover from the jetlag associated with a fourteen hour flight, but he’d have to make the best of it.  While he was sending the email, Phichit texted him, offering to let Yuuri stay with him while he was there. 

Once everything was finalized and the round trip ticket had been purchased, Yuuri danced around the apartment, overjoyed.

Things were finally beginning to look up.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to all of you who have given me kudos, commented on this story, or recommended it to others. Y'all are the best!
> 
> At long last, Viktor shows up. Kind of. He'll be in the rest of the chapters from here on out. 
> 
> Sorry about the late update tonight, folks. Migraines are SO much fun.


	5. Paris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “As you know, the main purpose of this project is to try to track viruses, to see where they are in nature,” Viktor said, hand on his chin. 
> 
> “What if, instead of going out into the field during an active outbreak and playing catch-up and trying to figure out how all the pieces fit in the puzzle, you knew how everything went together ahead of time because you knew what viruses were already in the area? Think of the lives that could be saved. That’s what we’re looking to do here, Doctor Katsuki. Our main goal is to conduct virus surveillance and track the movement of viruses and their respective reservoir species. It would make the job of every field epidemiologist, such as yourself, that much easier.”
> 
> Yuuri could feel his heart racing inside his chest. This was, without a doubt, the opportunity of a lifetime.
> 
> “Tell me,” Viktor said, his blue eyed gaze burning into Yuuri’s soul, “would you be interested in doing this kind of work with me?”
> 
> Yuuri swallowed. There could be no better tribute to his parents than to be involved in such a project. And to do it with this brilliant, beautiful man-
> 
> “Absolutely,” Yuuri answered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to all of you who have commented, given me kudos, and recommended this to others. I can't properly express how much I appreciate each and every one of you. And for those of you commenting on each chapter, you guys blow me away. Y'all are awesome!

Phichit was exactly where he said he’d be, seated right by the gate for incoming international flights, looking like he fit in perfectly in Paris.

“Bonjour, Yuuri-kun, mon ami!” Phichit called out, pulling down his black surgical mask as he stood up and waved at Yuuri.  It was good to see him again after so many years.

After they collected Yuuri’s suitcase, they took a taxi back to Phichit’s apartment.  Phichit gave Yuuri a bit of closet space so he could hang up his suit and casual clothes.  It was the same suit he’d been wearing when he got fired and when he flubbed the interview at the hospital, something Yuuri tried not to think about too much. 

Was it possible that the suit was bad luck?  Should he buy a new one?  He was in Paris, after all, and he could easily pick up something off the rack that looked good.  Maybe he should, or maybe he should just save the money and get rid of the notion that clothing could be cursed.  He’d already spent way more than he was comfortable with on the plane ticket just to get here.

They sat on the couch and caught up over Chinese delivery, but mostly Yuuri listened to Phichit talk about how much he loved working in the virology labs at the Pasteur Institute.  The work was challenging and sometimes required long hours, but he thoroughly enjoyed it and he’d already co-authored a paper.  They were getting ready to ramp up for the start of Viktor’s virus surveillance project, but they needed one more epidemiologist to complete the team before they could begin.

“Viktor asked a lot about you,” Phichit said as he bit into a prawn.  “He said he’d heard a couple of months ago through the grapevine that you were no longer with the CDC and he asked me if I thought you’d be a good match for the project.”

“Wait, he came to you and specifically asked about _me_?” Yuuri sputtered.  “I thought you told him I was looking for a job!” 

How in the hell did Viktor Nikiforov know who _he_ was?  They’d only met that one time, and Yuuri was only a lowly field epidemiologist.  There was absolutely nothing special about him.  And who told Viktor that he wasn’t working for the CDC anymore? 

“No, he came to me,” Phichit replied.  “He asked me about you at the beginning of last week.  He talked to some guy he knows in Geneva about you, too.  I think it was someone you worked with at the CDC.”

Yuuri raised an eyebrow.  So, Celestino had put in a good word for him, eh?  He’d always been under the impression that Celestino thought he was weak.  Yuuri made a note to email and thank him later. 

“Anyway, Viktor asked me about you and I told him we were roommates back at Johns Hopkins.  I said you were quiet and tended to keep to yourself, but that you were really focused and dedicated.  He remembered you from the symposium in Sochi a couple of years ago.  Apparently, you made quite the impression.”

“Oh my God,” Yuuri muttered, burying his face in his hands.  “Are you serious?  I remember talking to him, but it was right after Craig and I broke up.  I was really nervous and had too much to drink…”

 _…and I probably made a complete fool out of myself_ , Yuuri thought morosely. 

He remembered a good bit of the symposium.  Viktor was the darling of the entire event, giving an impassioned keynote speech about the effects of climate change on epidemiology.  He talked about how humans were also driving the evolution of viruses through habitat encroachment and destruction.  These factors caused viruses to migrate and mutate, providing them with new opportunities to jump to new species, one which might just be humans.

Afterwards, at the dinner, it had been difficult for Yuuri to be around so many people he didn’t know.  He was completely out of his element and the unending stream of wine that the waiters brought made him feel not so out of place.  He even felt brave enough to seek out Viktor at the open bar afterwards and to tell him what a wonderful talk he’d given, but he didn’t remember much of what he said.

Viktor was charming and sophisticated, and he was good with people, even the ones who took him to task.  About a month after the symposium, Yuuri saw Viktor on one of the 24 hour news channels, being interviewed by the anchor.  But the anchor also had another guest, a senator who kept saying that climate change wasn’t proven and even went so far as to say that they were falsifying evidence.  Viktor neatly countered every argument and managed to make the other man look foolish without ever saying a single negative thing.

Yuuri sighed.  Viktor would have handled Rebecca’s mother with grace and tact and would never have blurted out a snarky comment about vaccinating her dog and not her daughter.  Viktor would never have taken to Twitter to vent his frustrations about the policies of a new administration or the ignorance of others.  Viktor was everything he was not.  And Viktor wanted to interview _him_ for a position on his team?  This had to be some kind of joke, or Viktor must have him confused with someone else-

“Hello, Yuuri, are you in there?” Phichit said, waving a hand in front of his face.  Yuuri blinked and gave Phichit a sheepish smile.

“You haven’t heard a word I said, have you?” Phichit asked.

Yuuri didn’t need to answer.  Phichit shook his head and sighed.

“I said that Viktor remembered you and thought you have a lot of potential.  He said it was obvious that you were committed to helping others.”

Yuuri winced.  He had no filter when he was drunk, and if that side of him was what impressed Viktor, this trip might have been for nothing.  That version of him only came out when he was deep in his cups.

Almost as if he could read his mind, Phichit said, “Don’t worry, Viktor knew you’d had a bit too much to drink.  He knows you’re not like that all the time.”

“He also read the paper you helped write about controlling disease outbreaks on commercial poultry farms,” Phichit continued.  “And he managed to find a couple of clips of you on a morning television program in Atlanta, talking about how to protect yourself from mosquito-borne illnesses.  Viktor’s done his homework.”

Yuuri didn’t know what to think of all of this.  It was flattering that someone who was so well regarded in the community was interested in at least interviewing him for a position, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he wasn’t worthy of Viktor’s attention.  Or that somewhere in the interview, Viktor would realize that he’d made a horrible mistake and Yuuri would fail to get this job, too.  But… but... If there was any chance whatsoever that he could land this position, working with Viktor Nikiforov at the famed Pasteur Institute, then he had to take it.  Because opportunities like this didn’t present themselves very often.  And God knew he needed this chance.

“You look tired,” Phichit said, putting his plate down next to Yuuri’s on the coffee table.  “I could let you go to sleep now, if you want.  Or, if you need to stay awake for a little while longer and fight jetlag, we could always go kill some orcs or something.” 

Phichit held up two controllers, a wicked smile on his face.  Oh, but it had been a long time since they’d gone on a quest, and it would be the perfect way to stay up and help take his mind off the interview.

Phichit was a genius.

Yuuri held his hand out for a controller and shot Phichit a sly look.

“Let’s go kick some ass,” he said.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri looked at himself in the mirror and sighed.  He’d broken down and bought a new suit after all, as well as a new shirt and tie to go with it.  He had to admit, he looked good in the new clothing, but they didn’t feel like they were actually his yet.  This still didn’t feel entirely real to him and it was hard to shake the feeling that he was pretending to be someone he was not.

As if that wasn’t strange enough to deal with, the place where the interview was going to be conducted was even stranger. 

He wasn’t going to the Pasteur Institute to meet with Viktor.  He was meeting Viktor at a restaurant.  For dinner.

Yuuri looked at himself in the mirror again, tucking back a stray lock of hair and adjusting his glasses.  It almost felt like a date.  But it wasn’t a date, Yuuri kept reminding himself, it was much more important than that.  It was a chance at doing what he loved again, landing another position doing field work, and at one of the best places in the world to do it.

Viktor had explained to him in an email that the position was a temporary one, funded by the French government, and that they were the ones that specified that the applicant had to have been adversely affected by the change in the American government.  It was a position that was guaranteed for at least four years, eight if the governments in America and France stayed the same.  After that, well, they would have to see.  But positions could be made for people who had proven themselves.

Yuuri intended to prove himself.

This was an opportunity he couldn’t pass up, no matter how unusual the circumstances.  Yuuri just hoped he wouldn’t fuck it up.

 

* * *

 

“Some things are a bit more relaxed here in France, but don’t let that fool you,” Viktor said as he plucked a roll from the bread basket on the table.  Yuuri watched Viktor pick up his knife, neatly slice open the roll, and spread softened butter on it.

“They’re still just as dedicated to the cause of science and the scientific method as any other country.  France has a long history of supporting science and medicine.  It’s just that they also know how to balance things a little better than most.”

“So I see,” Yuuri replied.  He still couldn’t believe that they were doing the interview here, in the middle of a restaurant, and not at the Institute itself.  Yes, things were more relaxed here, but this almost seemed too relaxed, and it made Yuuri acutely uncomfortable. 

When the waiter came over, Viktor ordered first in perfect, flawless French.  Of course he did: he’d lived here for years.  Once it was his turn, Yuuri ordered with more confidence than he felt and was just glad when the waiter smiled and politely took the menu from him.  He just hoped that he hadn’t horribly mispronounced something and instead of getting coq au vin, he ended up with something like duck pâté _._

“I wasn’t aware that you spoke French,” Viktor said, a smile lighting up his face.  He looked like he was about to say something else, so Yuuri decided to come clean right then and there.

“I don’t,” Yuuri admitted.  “I looked at their menu online before I came over, picked something out, and practiced how to say it.”

“So you did some research before your first field assignment,” Viktor said and took a bite of his roll.  “Excellent!  It’s always good to be prepared.”

Yuuri let the comment pass without saying anything, plucking his own roll from the bread basket and making himself busy with it.

“How much field work have you done?” Viktor asked, taking a sip from his glass of wine. 

“The majority of my work was in the field,” Yuuri said.  “I had a desk in the office, but I wasn’t there much.  Usually, I was out in the field, investigating a live outbreak.” 

Viktor’s eyes widened and he hummed in appreciation.  God, he had the bluest eyes-

“That kind of work is pretty stressful.  Did you like it?”

Yuuri sipped from his own glass and nodded.

“Yes,” he replied.  “It was hard and there’s a lot of what we called gruntwork to be done, but I enjoyed it.”

“So you’re obviously fine with traveling for an assignment.  How much time would you estimate you spent out in the field?”

“Roughly sixty to seventy percent,” Yuuri said.  “You kind of get used to life on the road, living in hotel rooms and eating prepackaged dinners while you try to stop a virus from spreading any further.”

Viktor tapped his chin with his finger, a thoughtful expression his face.

“I’ve had a little experience in the field, but it doesn’t really compare to yours, I’m afraid.  It was some time ago and never with an active outbreak in progress.”  Viktor took another sip and rested his chin on his curled fingers.

“I looked over your CV again on the way here, Doctor Katsuki, and it’s very impressive.  I see that you managed to earn your bachelor’s in three years instead of the usual four.  How did you do that?”

Yuuri took a deep, calming breath.  Talking about himself always made him so self-conscious.

“I always took at least one extra class each semester,” Yuuri said.  “Instead of twelve hours, I took fifteen or eighteen.  I also took classes in the summer so I could get ahead.”

“Wow!” Viktor said, leaning in.  “That’s amazing!  Why did you do that?  It must have been hard on you.”

Yuuri bounced his leg under the table a couple of times and tried to come up with the best way to explain this to Viktor.  He exhaled and shrugged.

“It didn’t matter how hard it was,” he said simply.  “I- I knew what I wanted to do.  And I wanted to start doing it as soon as possible.  So I did what I could to accelerate the process.”

Viktor smiled at him over the top of his glass.

“Phichit said you could be very determined.  I see it’s true.”

Yuuri wanted to take another sip of wine, but he could feel its warming effects flowing through him.  If he drank too much on an empty stomach, he could very easily tank this interview.  He pushed the thought away and took a sip of water instead.

“As you know, the main purpose of this project is to try to track viruses, to see where they are in nature,” Viktor said, watching him seriously. 

“What if, instead of going out into the field during an active outbreak, playing catch-up and trying to figure out how all the pieces fit in the puzzle, you had a better idea of how everything went together ahead of time because you knew what viruses were already in the area?  What if, instead of waiting for new viruses to emerge and possibly become the next pandemic, you found it the wild before it found us?  Think of the lives that could be saved.  That’s what we’re looking to do here, Doctor Katsuki.  Our main goal is to conduct virus surveillance and track the movement of viruses and their respective reservoir species.  It would make the job of every field epidemiologist, such as yourself, that much easier.”

Yuuri could feel his heart racing inside his chest.  This was, without a doubt, the opportunity of a lifetime.

“Tell me,” Viktor said, his blue eyed gaze burning into Yuuri’s soul, “would you be interested in doing this kind of work with me?”

Yuuri swallowed.  There could be no better tribute to his parents than to be involved in such a project.  And to do it with this brilliant and beautiful man-

“Absolutely,” Yuuri answered.  He was about to say more, to tell Viktor that he was more than ready to get back to work, but the waiter arrived with their order, breaking the moment. 

Yuuri looked down at his plate and was relieved to see that he had received the meal he wanted.  Maybe he had a chance with French after all.

“Good,” Viktor said as he looked down at his plate, a slow smile spreading over his face. They took a few bites before Viktor started talking again.

“So about half of your time, if you were to get the position, would be spent in the lab.  Have you processed samples from the field before?”

“Not in a while,” Yuuri replied.  “The last time I did lab work was when I was in school.  We didn’t process our own samples at the CDC.  We sent them back to Atlanta to be processed.”

“What biosafety level did you process samples at?” Viktor asked in between bites.  Yuuri stared at Viktor’s mouth.  He was even pretty when he ate. 

“Um, BSL2,” Yuuri said, aware that he was staring at Viktor.  He looked back down at his plate.  “We didn’t do anything too advanced in school.”

“Would you be comfortable processing samples from the field?”

“Sure,” Yuuri answered.  “I’m sure I could get up to speed again.” 

“Some of the fieldwork we’re looking at doing would be more advanced," Viktor said.  "We’d be taking samples from a variety of insects and mammals.  Would that be a problem?”

Yuuri shook his head as he ate.  He’d do whatever it took to land this position.  He was beginning to feel a little more comfortable, so he hazarded a question of his own.

“I’m curious, Doctor Nikiforov,” Yuuri began, only to be interrupted by Viktor.

“Please, call me by my first name,” Viktor said with a smile. 

Viktor’s smiles were as infectious as Phichit’s. Yuuri couldn’t help but smile back.

“Okay, Viktor,” Yuuri said. “Please call me Yuuri.”

“Of course,” Viktor said.  “It almost sounds Russian.  Yuri.  Yuuri.  You just extend the vowel.  Yuuuuuuuri.”  He looked like he was about to laugh in delight.

“You’re originally from Russia, right?”

“Yes,” Viktor said.  “I was born and raised in Saint Petersburg.”

“Why didn’t you set up your lab there?  If I remember correctly, the Pasteur Institute has a branch in Saint Petersburg.   You could have worked for them there.  Or why not go to work for the Russian government?”

Something subtle changed about the quality of Viktor’s smile.  It was still there, but all the warmth seemed to have drained away, leaving a hollow shell in its wake.  Yuuri had the impression that he’d asked the wrong question and cursed himself inwardly for spoiling things.

“My uncle and his wife were virologists in the former Soviet Union,” Viktor said quietly, a faraway look in his eyes.  “The government gave them a state of the art lab and a limitless budget so that they could work on vaccines.  If they needed or wanted something, all they had to do was ask and it was provided, no questions asked.  They wanted for nothing.  But gradually, they came to realize that their work was being subverted and used for something else.  It turned out the government didn’t want vaccines to fight deadly viruses, they were actually trying to make the viruses more lethal so they could be used as weapons.”

Viktor put his fork down and looked at Yuuri across the table.  His gaze had gone cold.

“They were trying to use their work for biowarfare.”

Yuuri swallowed, feeling vaguely ill.  Viktor’s relatives had been involved in Biopreparat?  Yuuri suppressed a shudder.  The thought of having his work corrupted by someone who wanted to use it to hurt instead of heal was horrifying. 

“I’m sure you can understand that I would rather not take that chance,” Viktor continued, looking down at his plate.  “I prefer to avoid dealing with government agencies whenever I can.  That’s why I work for the Institut Pasteur here in Paris.  Since they are not a government agency and rely heavily on private funding, you don’t have to worry so much about your work being misused or compromised.  I’m sure you can understand that, yes?”

“Yes, of course,” Yuuri replied meekly. 

For a moment, neither of them spoke.  Yuuri heard the faint noises of other conversations around him, the clink of cutlery against fine china, and soft classical music playing in the background.  Things had gotten uncomfortable and gone off track.  He was trying to think of some way to salvage the situation when Viktor spoke again.

“Anyway, I think that’s enough about me,” he said flatly.  “Tell me about you, Yuuri.  Why are you no longer working for the CDC?”

And there it was.  Yuuri sat back and took a deep breath.  It was a perfectly valid question, one which he was sure had to come up.  How much had Phichit told Viktor?  Yuuri told Phichit that he’d been fired under suspicion of being part of Rogue CDC, but he’d never come right out and said it.  Did Viktor know this?  

Most likely he did.  Phichit said he did his homework.  It wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility that he had contacts inside the CDC and knew everything that had gone down.  Even if he didn’t, Yuuri couldn’t imagine that Phichit would have kept that bit of information from him.  To do so would have an adverse effect on Phichit’s position in the organization, and he wasn’t willing to risk his best friend’s employment on this.  His actions had already caused too many ripples.

He took a drink of wine and looked right at Viktor.

“I was terminated because they suspected that I was one of the people using the Rogue CDC account on Twitter.”

He carefully watched Viktor’s face, looking for any change or shift in expression, something to indicate how the information went over.  But Viktor’s expression remained neutral and impassive.

“I see,” Viktor said.  “Is it true?  Were you part of Rogue CDC?”

Silence would be fatal here.  Silence had let Sara know the truth, but here, in the middle of a job interview, he had to be honest and forthcoming.  To lie in an interview would be to disqualify himself outright.  If it cost him the job, then so be it.

“Yes,” Yuuri murmured softly, his heart rabbiting in his chest.  “I was one of the people who used the Rogue CDC account.”

Once again, Viktor had no reaction, making it impossible for Yuuri to gauge how the information went over.  Was this a good thing?  Would he admire Yuuri for standing up and saying when something was wrong? Or would this work against him?  He heard Huett’s voice echoing in his mind again: _You’re damaged goods_.  Yuuri swallowed, wishing Viktor would do something instead of just sit there and stare at him, still as a statue.

After a few seconds, Viktor hummed noncommittally and reached for his wine.  Yuuri felt his stomach sink and wished again that he had never touched that damn account.  He grabbed his glass and took a sip, fighting the urge to drain the whole thing right there.

Yuuri closed his eyes, defeated.  He was finished before he’d even begun.  Oh, he’d been an idiot to ever use that account.  He’d been a fool to come all the way to Paris to interview for this job.  And he’d been a fool to think that any of it mattered at all to the man sitting in front of him.

It was over.  Yuuri knew he would be getting back on that plane and flying back to Japan empty handed.  Phichit had gone out on a limb for him, just like Mari, and he’d been burned, too.  Huett was right.  He _was_ damaged goods.  And associating with him would only damage those around him.

When dessert arrived, Yuuri poked at his cannelé with his fork.  He only managed to finish half of it, and ordinarily he would have been eager to sample a French dessert.  He’d had cannelés from the bakery a few blocks from Mari’s apartment, and the chance to sample one from France didn’t come often.  But he had no stomach for dessert.  And the coffee sat in his stomach and burned.  He just wanted this to be over.

Across from him, Viktor was talking while he nibbled at his tart, telling him about the things he hoped to accomplish with the program.  But Yuuri didn’t hear any of it.  He smiled and nodded, but he was just going through the motions.

How could Viktor be so happy?  He was probably happy that he’d realized early on that Yuuri wasn’t a good match and had avoided that bullet.  Oh, but how Yuuri wished things could be different.

Viktor paid the bill and they walked out of the restaurant into the warm summer evening, side by side. 

“How long are you going to be in Paris?” Viktor asked him.

“I fly back Friday morning,” Yuuri murmured.  Why in the hell did he want to know?  What did it matter?

“Three whole days, hmm?  Good,” Viktor said thoughtfully.  “That gives me some time.  Thank you again for coming all this way for an interview, Yuuri.” Viktor extended his hand and smiled at him.  Yuuri took it, noting how firm and warm Viktor’s grip was. 

“It’s been a pleasure getting to meet you.  I’ll be in touch by Thursday morning at the latest.  Have a good evening and enjoy your stay in Paris!”

Two cabs arrived and Viktor took the first one.  Yuuri got into the second and watched Viktor’s cab drive away as he gave the driver Phichit’s address. 

In the end, he was just glad he made it back to Phichit’s before his anxiety made him utterly useless.

 

* * *

 

“You’re too hard on yourself, Yuuri,” Phichit said as he got ready for work the next morning.  Yuuri stood in the hall, leaning against the wall, while Phichit fixed his hair in the small bathroom. 

“Viktor knows what it’s like to work for a government that isn’t exactly friendly, you know?  I didn’t have my interview with him, I interviewed with Lilia Baranskova, right after her husband died and just before she went to work in Africa.  My interview wasn’t at a restaurant in the middle of Paris with two Michelin stars.  I interviewed at the Institut Pasteur and she was fucking brutal.  Oh my God, Yuuri…”  Phichit gave him a wan smile.  “I was sure I was toast, that there was no way in hell they were going to hire me.  But, somehow or another, I still got the position, much to my surprise.”

Phichit came out of the bathroom and patted Yuuri on the shoulder.

“All I’m saying is that you can’t tell what they’re looking for.  He told that he’ll let you know, one way or another, in two days.  Why don’t you do something to take your mind off of it?  You’re in Paris, for God’s sake, go sightseeing!  There’s the Eiffel Tower and the Arc de Triomphe and the Louvre and a hundred little out of the way cafés to sit and have a cup of coffee… There are so many things to do and see here.  I’ve lived here for almost two and a half years and there are still places I haven’t seen.  Get out of the apartment and take your mind off of things!”

After Phichit left, Yuuri lay back down on the couch and pulled the duvet up to his chin.  He wanted to hide.  But Phichit was right: he was in Paris for the first time.  _Probably for the only time_ , Yuuri thought, then chased the dark thought away.  He needed to get up and go out and do something.

As Yuuri was getting ready to head out to explore Paris, his phone rang.  He looked down, expecting it to be Phichit, or maybe Mari or Minako, calling to see how the interview went.  But instead it was Viktor.

“Hello, Yuuri!” Viktor said brightly, “how are you doing today?”

It was just a nicety.  He was just being polite.  It meant nothing.

“I- I’m good,” Yuuri replied.  “How are you?”

“Doing quite well, thank you!  Listen, I’m afraid to admit this, but I’ve never interviewed someone before and I was enjoying our talk so much yesterday that there are a lot of things I forgot to talk to you about.  I was wondering if you were available to come by the Institut tomorrow to talk some more about the position?”

Yuuri felt his heart start racing.  His mouth was moving, but nothing was coming out. 

“Hello?” Viktor said again.  “Yuuri, are you still there?”

“Y-yes,” Yuuri stammered.  “Yes, I’m here.  I can come by tomorrow.  What time?”

“Would nine be too early?” Viktor asked. 

“No, no, that’s fine, perfectly fine,” Yuuri said a little too quickly.  He made a conscious effort to slow down.  “I’ll be there tomorrow at nine.”

“Good!  You can come in with Phichit!  He can show you around!”

As soon as he got off the phone, Yuuri whooped for joy.  It was very loud in Phichit’s small flat, but he didn’t care.  He sat down on the couch and rattled off a series of texts to Mari, Minako, and Sara, letting them know that he’d been asked to come by the lab tomorrow morning for another interview. Mari texted back almost immediately.

 **You got ANOTHER interview?** **That’s the THIRD one, Yuuri!  Great news!  Kitto katsu!**

As he headed out to be a tourist on a warm summer day in Paris, Yuuri realized he was grinning ear to ear, like some kind of idiot.  He didn’t care, not one bit.

 

* * *

 

“Didn’t I say you were being too hard on yourself?” Phichit whispered as they entered the section of the building where he worked.  Phichit had signed Yuuri in and the VISITEUR badge bounced on the lapel of Yuuri’s coat with every step. 

“Maybe you’re right,” Yuuri murmured, carefully cradling the box of croissants in his hands.  When he was in the office in Atlanta, he occasionally brought in doughnuts for his co-workers in Special Pathogens.  They were always a hit and right now, he would do whatever it took to foster good will towards him.  He placed the box in the separate break room after Phichit badged them into the lab.

“Ah, we meet again, Doctor Katsuki,” Viktor said.  In this setting, Viktor was formal, but he was chatty and the wide smile on his face was heart-shaped.  It was absolutely breathtaking.  “Thank you so much for making time to come by and speak with me again.  And I see you brought breakfast for everyone, too.  How thoughtful and kind of you!  Now, why don’t we sit down and have a nice little talk?”

Even though Yuuri knew this was technically his third interview for the position, it felt nothing like any interview he’d ever had.  This was more like a pleasant conversation over coffee with an esteemed colleague.

At first, it was a little stiff.  Viktor asked a couple of questions, some of which were technical, and listened intently to what Yuuri had to say.  And then Viktor began to talk and the next thing he knew, they were trading war stories of field work gone terribly wrong.

Viktor told him about the first time he went to Africa.  He was still working on his bachelor’s degree and he went down in the summer to help his uncle and his wife set up their clinic in Kenya.  He ended up sharing the back of a truck with half a dozen goats, one of which kept staring at his long hair like it wanted to eat it.

Yuuri told him about having to deal with an outbreak of bird flu on American poultry farms.  “After seeing the conditions in which these animals were raised, I couldn’t eat chicken for six months.” Yuuri told Viktor as he sipped his coffee.  “My supervisor and I worked on a paper about it.  He ended up becoming a vegetarian.”

It was so easy to talk to Viktor.  It was clear that he loved what he did, something Yuuri completely understood. 

They were deep in conversation when a man with blond curls and round-framed glasses stuck his head in the break room.

“Viktor, are you coming to the meeting?  Lilia and Mikembe are already on the call.”

“It’s already noon?” Viktor yelped.  Yuuri pulled out his phone and was shocked to see that almost three hours had gone by.  It hardly felt like any time at all-

“Merde,” Viktor muttered, standing up quickly.  “Chris, tell them I’m running a little behind but that I’ll be there in five minutes, okay?  I’m so sorry to cut this short, Yuuri, but I’m about to be late for a very important meeting.  I’ll have Phichit sign you out.  Thank you again for coming today, I really appreciate it.  I’ll be in touch again very soon!”   

"I've got a good feeling about this," Phichit said as he signed Yuuri out.  Yuuri nodded, but said nothing.  He didn't want to take a chance- any chance- on screwing this up.

 

* * *

 

The next afternoon, Yuuri was in the middle of the Louvre when his cell phone buzzed at him with an incoming call.  Nervously, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and drew in a sharp breath when he saw that it was from Viktor.  He made his way through the crowd and sat down on a bench to answer the call.

“Hello again, Yuuri!” Viktor said, sounding very happy over the phone.  “I’m not supposed to tell you this, but you should be getting a call in the next thirty minutes from our hiring department, officially offering you the position.”

Yuuri squealed with joy and immediately slapped a hand over his mouth, embarrassed that he’d been so overcome and had been so loud in a museum.

“I take it you’re going to accept?” Viktor teased.

“Y-yes!” Yuuri said quickly.  “I am _definitely_ going to accept!” 

It felt like every cell in his body was vibrating, jumping for joy-

“Very good!  It’s going to be a pleasure working with you!  I need to go now, but can we talk later tonight about when you can actually start?”

“Of course!” Yuuri yelped.  He was so overjoyed that he wanted to stand up on the bench and shout.

“Excellent," Viktor purred.  "I guess we'll talk later tonight then.  Au revoir, Yuuri.”

When the call was over, Yuuri remained on the bench, unable to believe that this had just happened to him.  He’d actually landed the position!  So what if it was only guaranteed for four years?  He’d prove to them that he was worth keeping on a permanent basis.

A few minutes later, his phone rang again.  He answered immediately because he still had it out in his hand, waiting for the call.  The woman on the other end of the line spoke in heavily accented English, but she made the formal offer, which he accepted.  The salary was better than he expected, and more than what he’d made at the CDC.  This was good, because as he was finding out, Paris was expensive.

Afterwards, Yuuri was too excited to tour the Louvre.  He didn’t think he could actually sit still.  Besides, it wasn’t like this was his only chance to see it.  With a smile on his face, Yuuri headed towards the exit, ready to go see the new city he’d get to call home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Bonjour, Yuuri-kun, mon ami!** \- Hello, Yuuri, my friend!
> 
>  **Au revoir, Yuuri.** \- Goodbye, Yuuri.
> 
>  **merde** \- shit
> 
>  **Kitto Katsu** \- you will surely win
> 
> [Biopreparat](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Biopreparat) was a biowarfare program developed by the Soviet Union. Many of the scientists who worked on the program were unaware of the true nature of what they were doing. The program was revealed in 1989 when Soviet biologist [Vladimir Pasechnik](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vladimir_Pasechnik) defected to the United Kingdom and revealed the scope and nature of the program. 
> 
> Why would France scientists displaced by America? This is based in reality. France offered to take American scientists who worked on climate change after the US pulled out of the Paris Accord. You can read more about it [here](https://www.businessinsider.com/emmanuel-macron-american-climate-scientists-france-2017-6), [here](http://www.sciencemag.org/news/2017/12/french-president-s-climate-talent-search-nabs-18-foreign-scientists), and [here](https://www.theguardian.com/environment/2017/dec/11/macron-awards-grants-to-us-scientists-to-move-to-france-in-defiance-of-trump). I took a few liberties and extended it to include ANY scientist. 
> 
> Some future chapters may contain things that may be triggering for some. Appropriate warnings will be given in the notes at the beginning of the chapter.
> 
> Thank you all again so very much for reading! I'll be posting the next chapter- with some of [Littorella's](https://littorella.tumblr.com/) fantastic art- and answering all of your comments on Monday.


	6. The Boy at the Funeral

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It would be easy, so easy, to let the little crush he’d been nursing for Viktor develop into a full-blown thing. It would be easy, so easy, to let himself fall in love with him. Viktor was perfect in every respect, simply perfect.
> 
> And Viktor was his supervisor. Yuuri knew the last thing he needed to do was feed his attraction for Viktor. He could push it out of himself, focus on his work, and be happy that he at least got to be close to Viktor. That was enough, wasn’t it? 
> 
> It would have to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again everyone for all the support I've received on this story. You guys are wonderful!

Three weeks into his new position, Yuuri was starting to get the feel of things.  The Pasteur Institute, or Institut Pasteur, as it was called in France, ran a little differently than the CDC had operated.  It was still a large bureaucracy, and there were still quite a number of political motivations and machinations at play, but the general feel of the work environment wasn’t as tense as those last few months at the CDC had been.  People weren’t constantly looking over their shoulders to see if someone was watching them or if there had been yet another chaotic shift in policy due to the new administration.  The Institut operated under the auspices of private funding.  No one could threaten to make drastic cuts to their budget because the facts disagreed with what someone believed.  There were no alternative facts here, and it was refreshing.

Yuuri was spending his first month learning all the lab processes and procedures, as well as figuring out how his colleagues operated.  There were only four of them on the project, so they had to form a tight-knit group that worked well together.  Yuuri had taken Phichit’s suggestion and brought in a selection of Kit Kats he picked up in Japan on his first day in the office.  They’d made a big hit and Yuuri was glad to start off on the right foot.

Yuuri was sitting with Phichit and Christophe Giacometti, the other virologist in their small group, observing them process samples from the field.  He’d met Chris at the same symposium he’d met Viktor at a couple of years ago.  He vaguely remembered talking to Chris, but he didn’t really recall what they talked about, which was probably just as well.  He’d had too much to drink and probably everything he’d said had been inane.  Yuuri was just glad no one held it against him. 

Working with two virologists while they unpacked and prepared samples was about as exciting as watching paint dry.  It seemed so repetitive and monotonous, but Yuuri knew that this was how you avoided mistakes.  Adhering to an established routine kept everyone safe.

“It may seem dull to you, Mister Let-Me-Go-Out-And-Get-Dirty-As-Fuck-In-The-Field,” Phichit teased, “but it’s fascinating to me.  There’s no way I could do your job.  I like sleeping in my own bed at night.”

Yuuri nodded, glad that his best friend was willing to do this kind of work.  He had no idea how Phichit and Chris did this day after day, and even managed to have conversations about things that were completely unrelated to the subject, quite literally, at hand.

“You get into a rhythm,” Chris answered, never looking up from the pipetting he was doing under the hood.  “It’s kind of like muscle memory.  You can do one thing, but there’s still part of your brain paying attention, and you know when you’ve messed up.  You just feel that something is wrong.” 

“One thing you have to watch out for is repetitive injuries,” Phichit chimed in as he worked at his station next to Chris’.    “You do the same thing, over and over again, day after day.  That’s why we never work under the hood for more than two hours at a time.  You can injure your thumb if you do too much pipetting.  And trust me, that’s not something you want to do.  Hell, screw up your thumb and you can’t even masturbate properly.”

Yuuri choked and turned beet red at Phichit’s complaint.  Chris cast a sly look at Yuuri, then deadpanned, “That’s why you let someone else do it for you, mon cher.”

“But then you’re not doing it for yourself,” Phichit fussed. “If someone else has to do it for you, then technically it’s not masturbation.”

Chris shook his head and cast a playful glance at Phichit.  “My, my.  All these technicalities…”  Chris murmured as he went back to work.  Yuuri was convinced Chris only had two modes, serious scientist and playful flirt.  It was strange was when they both showed up at once.

“Okay,” Chris said as he placed one of the cold boxes that had just arrived from the field under the hood, “let’s see what we’ve got today.”

Yuuri leaned in as Chris removed the straps holding the box closed.  When he removed the lid, Phichit leaned forward to peer inside at the contents.

Phichit swore under his breath in Thai. Yuuri knew whatever was in that box had to be bad.

“Oh my God,” Phichit muttered. “What… the fuck… is that?  Chris, let Yuuri see this so he knows what _not_ to do, okay?” 

Chris motioned for Yuuri to come forward and they made room for him in between them. 

Yuuri peered inside the box and cringed.  He saw what looked to be several urine specimen containers, each one inside its own ziplock bag, nestled among blue freezer packs of ice.  Another ziplock bag was tucked into one corner of the box and Yuuri could see a folded up piece of paper inside of it.  He suspected that what was on the paper was a list of what was in the specimen jars.Had he ever sent anything like that back to the CDC, it would have been an immediate phone call to his supervisor.  Celestino would have chewed him up one side and down the other.  He looked from Phichit to Chris and saw that neither of them were pleased with the contents of the box.   

Chris fished the ziplock bag with the piece of paper out of the box first.  As Yuuri had suspected, it was indeed a list of all the specimens inside the box.  At least it was a printed spreadsheet detailing what was what and where it was from.  Yuuri thought he saw several falcon tubes inside one ziplock bag in the bottom of the box, but he wasn’t certain. 

Slowly, they worked their way through the contents of the box, carefully processing each specimen.  Each time a new ziplock bag came out of the box, Phichit sighed in dismay.  Yuuri wasn’t even sure that Phichit was aware that he was doing it.

“Make sure everything you send to us is neatly labeled properly sealed, and appropriately packaged,” Phichit said, holding up another ziplock bag with a urine specimen jar in it.  He felt sorry who whoever had sent those to be processed and wondered if they had just run out of falcon tubes and parafilm and that this was all they had access to.  Something was better than nothing, but there were reasons to adhere to the safety protocols that were in place.  Either way, he knew that when they were done here, Chris would send an email to their supervisor and ask for an explanation at the least and for them to be retrained at the worst. 

“You may take samples of things that have to be sent to a lab with a higher biosafety level than we operate at here,” Chris said.  “I’ll show you how to load the tubes into the cyrocanes and put them in liquid nitrogen after lunch.  And I’ll show you how to do it with panty hose if you don’t have any cyrocanes.  Trust me, that’s something you don’t want to get wrong.”

“How do you know so much about higher safety levels?” Yuuri asked.

“I used to work in the BSL4 lab in Geneva,” Chris replied.  “I know what they’re looking for.” Yuuri raised an eyebrow in appreciation.  BSL4 was the highest containment there was.  The people who worked at that level worked with viruses that had no treatment or cure.  It was dangerous and difficult work and people usually only did it for a short time before they burned out.“Why did you stop?” Yuuri asked.  Chris paused and pursed his lips, then gave him a wry smile.

“Let’s just say that when you get to spend three weeks in quarantine, it makes you rethink things,” Chris answered.  “Now, let’s see what’s in this specimen jar, shall we?”

Yuuri knew Chris was purposefully changing the subject.  It was clear that whatever had happened, he didn’t want to talk about it.  Yuuri decided to let it rest.  They all had things they didn’t want to talk about and that was fine with him.  Like Celestino had told him, let sleeping dogs lie. 

* * *

 

After work, Yuuri had a meeting with Charlotte, his real estate agent, in hopes that he could find a place of his own.  Phichit had been kind enough to let Yuuri stay with him, but he didn’t want to wear his welcome thin.  Besides, Phichit’s couch had ceased to be comfortable after the third night and he had to find a place of his own if he ever wanted to have a decent night’s sleep again.

Charlotte was already at the coffee shop when he arrived.    She barely glanced up from her phone as she stood up and they headed to her car to look at the properties she thought he would like.  This was their fourth meeting in two weeks, and he knew Charlotte was tired of him.  She never said a word, but it was obvious in the way she talked to him that she wished he’d just find a place and be done.

“You could always get a furnished flat,” Phichit suggested one night as they made dinner.  “It would run you more, but you wouldn’t have to buy anything.  And if you ended up not staying here, then it would be a lot easier if you moved again.”

“Maybe,” Yuuri said.  The idea of a furnished flat was appealing in that it was ready to move in right away, but it wouldn’t bear a single personal touch.  Nothing in his home would be anything he’d picked out.  He might as well live in a hotel room if that were the case.  But if he got an unfurnished apartment, he’d have to go shopping for everything all over again.  He’d have to pick out furniture and plates and towels and bed linens, all things he’d just gotten rid of a few months ago…  Yuuri sighed.  Why wasn’t there a happy medium?  The first two flats they looked at that night felt off.  One was furnished, but the furniture looked like it had belonged to someone’s grandmother.  The second one was unfurnished, but it was dirty and looked like he’d be sharing it with insects.  The third and final flat of the night, however, was perfect.  Yuuri immediately took a liking to the old building when they pulled up outside.  They walked through the front door and took the carpeted stairs to the second floor.  Charlotte dialed in the code on the lockbox, got the key, and opened the door to the apartment for Yuuri.

The apartment was a small, unfurnished one bedroom with a decent kitchen and a deep bathtub that made Yuuri smile.  Being raised around an onsen for part of his life had given him an appreciation for the restorative powers a good, long soak.  This tub would definitely provide that.  One of the walls in the living room would be perfect for bookshelves and he could get a small loveseat and a nice television and be quite comfortable.  The bedroom was barely large enough for a queen-sized bed, nightstand, and dresser, but he didn’t need much.  If he had to move again, the less he had, the easier it’d be.

“Since it’s not furnished and most of the units in this building are, they’re willing to give you a break on the price,” Charlotte said, her heels clacking on the tiled kitchen floor.

“How much of a break?” Yuuri asked.  Truthfully, he was ready to sign the lease right now, but he remembered how his father had always told him not to act too excited and to take any discount he could get, lessons he’d kept with him all his life.

“Five percent,” Charlotte said, not looking up from her phone.

Yuuri quickly did the math.  Even with the break, it was still more than he wanted to pay, but the apartment was perfect.  He looked out the window down at the old cobblestone road and the trees just beginning to turn with the seasons that lined the route.  It was also close to work, just under four kilometers, and he could easily walk there and back.  Considering how many French pastries he’d sampled since he’d moved here, a nice daily walk would help him burn off unwanted calories.  He always did gain weight easily.

“How long is the lease?” Yuuri asked.  “Are there any price breaks for signing a longer one?”

“It’s a year and there are no discounts for staying longer,” Charlotte said.  “This flat just came on the market two days ago and it will probably go fast.  Another agent has already inquired about showing it.”

Yuuri frowned.  He knew realtor tricks: impart a sense of urgency to wrap things up.  The longer you had to deal with a client, the less you made.  She was ready to wash her hands of him.

But the apartment was cozy and close to work.  He’d be a fool not to snap it up.

“Tell the other realtor that this unit is rented,” Yuuri murmured as he poked his head in the pantry.  “I’ll take it.”

* * *

 

**Y: Hey, when would you be able to go to my storage unit and ship my stuff to me?  I’ve found a place.**

**S: OMG are you serious??  I’m so happy for you!  Did you get a nice apartment in downtown Paris with a view of the Eiffel Tower?**

**Y:  I wish!  It’s a one bedroom a couple of miles from work.  It’s small, but I don’t need much.  And I can walk to work.**

**S: I want pictures!  Emil says we can go over this weekend & pick up your stuff.  I need your address!  Yuuri, I’m so happy for you!**

**Y: Me too, Sara.  Me too.**

* * *

 

Yuuri spent his first weekend in his new apartment out in a marathon shopping spree.  He managed to purchase everything he needed for his new home, but he had to wait until the next weekend for the furniture to be delivered.  The last of his belongings from America arrived a few days after his new furniture and he spent his third weekend unpacking and organizing. 

The first box Yuuri unpacked was the one with the things that had belonged to his parents.  He placed his mother’s donabe in the back of the small cabinet with the rest of the cookware, wondering if she would have ever thought it would have been so well-traveled.  

On Monday, Yuuri took his father’s cardigan and the framed photo of his family to work.  He put the sweater on the back of his chair in his office and placed the picture on the right hand corner of his desk where he could look over and see it as he was working.  He had been with the Institut Pasteur for almost two months, but now, with the sweater and the photo here, it finally felt _real,_ like he belonged.  It finally felt like _home_.

A few days later, Viktor poked his head into Yuuri’s office, clearly about to admonish him for working late again, but stopped when his gaze fell on the picture frame.  ~~~~

“What’s this?” Viktor asked, picking it up off of Yuuri’s desk and turning it around to look at it.

Yuuri was about to explain that it was the last photo his family had taken together as Viktor pursed his lips in concentration.

“Wait,” Viktor whispered, tapping the frame with one long, elegant finger, “I know I’ve seen this picture before, I’m sure of it.” 

Before Yuuri could say anything, Viktor’s eyes widened and he snapped his fingers, excited.

“Oh, I remember!  This is the picture the boy at the funeral was looking at!  How did you manage to get a copy of this?”

Yuuri blinked at Viktor.  There was no way he could have seen this picture before…  And what boy was he talking about? 

“This is a picture of my family,” Yuuri said, reaching for the photo.

“This… this is _your_ family?” Viktor asked, his soft blue eyes puzzled.

“Yes,” Yuuri said.  “It’s the last photo we took together.  Where… where did you see it before?”

“When the bird flu epidemic hit Japan in the 90s and so many people died, there was a clip on television,” Viktor said, talking quickly, the way he always did when he was explaining something.  “It was a boy standing by a young woman in front of two coffins, looking at a picture of all of them together.  But if this picture is a picture of your family then…”  Viktor blinked and looked up at him.

For a moment, they could only stare at one another, each of them knowing this wouldn’t end well.  But there was no nice way out.  The damage had been done.

“Yuuri,” Viktor finally asked, his voice barely above a whisper, “did your parents die in the flu epidemic?”

Even after all these years, losing them still felt like a knife to the heart.  Yuuri bit his lip and looked down. 

“ _You_ were the boy at the funeral,” Viktor whispered, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder.  “Oh my God, Yuuri, I’m so sorry, I had no idea-”

“It- it’s okay,” Yuuri murmured, quietly closing his laptop.  “It was a long time ago.  You had no way of knowing.”

Yuuri closed his eyes.  He hardly remembered the funeral.  He was barely out of bed himself, having fallen ill the night after his father died.  Mari had led him up the aisle to a seat in the front and he had clutched her hand the entire time, unable to grasp that his parents really were gone. 

He didn’t even know that a news crew from Fukuoka had been at the funeral until he saw himself on television a few days later.  He knew it had been broadcast all over Japan, but it had been shown internationally as well?  Viktor had seen it in Russia?  And he remembered it?

It was too much for him to deal with.

Viktor stared at him, wide-eyed, clearly understanding he’d caused Yuuri distress and not knowing how to fix it.  But there was nothing to fix.  There were no magic words to undo the pain, erase the years of hurt, or bring them back. 

“I think I’m going to go home,” Yuuri said softly as he slipped his laptop into his messenger bag.  “You’re right: I spend too much time at the office.  It’s late and I can work on this at home.”

“Yuuri-” Viktor began, but closed his mouth and sighed, clearly at a loss for what to say or do.

“Good night, Viktor,” Yuuri said as he turned and left, leaving Viktor standing in his office.  “I’ll see you in the morning.” 

But Yuuri didn’t work on anything when he got home.  He spent the night looking at old pictures on his laptop, wishing he could tell his parents he loved them just one more time.

The next morning, there was a vase of purple hyacinths in the middle of his desk.   Yuuri sighed and moved the flowers to the corner so he could set up his laptop.  He’d barely set his computer down when Phichit stuck his head in his office, a huge smile on his face and a twinkle in his dark eyes.

“You got flowers!” Phichit said as he walked inside. “I think you have an admirer,” he said in a sing-song voice.  “Tell me who it is!  There’s no card!”

Yuuri merely fixed Phichit with a look and said nothing.  He knew the flowers were from Viktor, but he wasn’t about to tell Phichit, because then he’d have to explain what happened last night.  And Phichit knew better than to mention his parents.   Besides, he wasn’t even sure Viktor knew what purple hyacinths were supposed to mean.

Yuuri paused and bit his lower lip.  This was Viktor.  Of _course_ he knew.  If he didn’t know already, then he’d probably googled ‘how to apologize with flowers’ before he purchased them.  Apology accepted, although there’d been no need to apologize in the first place. 

Once Yuuri got his laptop set up and Phichit had returned to the lab, he went to pay Viktor a visit in his office.  Viktor looked up from his laptop and smiled, but it was hesitant, as though Viktor was unsure exactly how to proceed.

“Good morning, Yuuri,” Viktor said, subdued.

“Good morning, Viktor,” Yuuri replied.  “I wanted to thank you for the flowers.  They’re very beautiful.”  Viktor sighed and Yuuri found himself thinking that Viktor was very beautiful. 

“I apologize for making you uncomfortable last night,” Viktor said.  “I didn’t realize-”

“I know,” Yuuri said quietly.  “It wasn’t your fault, Viktor.”  And then, “How old were you when you saw the clip?”

“Almost sixteen,” Viktor said.  “I- I felt so bad for that boy in Japan that I cried.  Seeing what he- _you_ \- were going through…”  Viktor shook had head and huffed out a breath.  “It made virology and epidemiology human.  It made me able to relate to people, to the human cost.  _You_ moved me.  And I think I understand you a little better now.  I think I understand why you’re so driven.”

Yuuri said nothing.  He knew, without a doubt, that those events had changed him, made him the man he was today.  But he had never thought of the others who would see his moment of anguish and how it would affect them.

“Thank you again for the flowers,” Yuuri murmured.  He pointed towards his office.  “I should get back to work…”

Viktor nodded and smiled at him again, but the hint of pain that had been there before was gone now.  Yuuri walked to his office, glad that they had gotten past this. 

* * *

 

“Yuuri,” Viktor said, sticking his head inside Yuuri’s office, “why haven’t you gone home yet?  You have your own place now.  Don’t you like it?”

Two and a half months in and Yuuri had buried himself in his work.  He was generally at the office more than at home.  If he showed them how hard he could work, maybe they would decide to keep him after the four years was up. 

“I do,” Yuuri replied, glancing up from the report he was working on.  Viktor was leaning inside, his hands on the doorframe, looking for all the world like a small child spying on his parents.  He was adorable.  “I’m just finishing this up.”

He really didn’t want Viktor to know that he wasn’t done yet.  He knew was taking too long with this report.  It was harder for him to process data that he hadn’t actually taken.  It should be easy, but he felt disconnected from it.  He missed being out in the field, collecting and processing the raw data himself.  It just felt wrong to him, yet this is what Viktor did all the time.  But how?

Yuuri had primarily worked in the field before and he found working in the lab to be a little tedious.  He preferred gruntwork to paperwork any day.

But he thought he should have a better handle on things by now.  Was he taking too long?  Would Viktor look at him and think he’d made the wrong decision by hiring him?  Suddenly, Yuuri felt very self-conscious.  Maybe he should just leave when everyone else left and finish things at home, not stand out…

“Well, since this is the third night in a row that you’ve worked late, I brought you dinner.”

Viktor smiled and held up a large paper bag.  Yuuri’s fingers froze over the keyboard.

“Now, stop what you’re doing and eat,” Viktor ordered, pulling Yuuri from behind his desk and leading him into the small breakroom. 

“If you don’t eat properly, you can’t think properly,” Viktor chided, setting out the containers.  He pulled a small loaf of French bread out of the bag and got the butter out of the refrigerator.

“And I know for a fact that you skipped lunch,” Viktor said.

“I had lunch,” Yuuri protested, only to be silenced by a look from Viktor.

“A couple of leftover pastries from this morning is not lunch,” Viktor said in a tone that brooked no argument.  “Since we can’t have wine at work, then coffee will have to do,” Viktor said as he threw out the old pot and started a fresh one.

Yuuri opened his meal and smiled.  Baked salmon and asparagus.  Across from him, Viktor had chicken and baby carrots in butter and dill.  Viktor cut off a hunk of bread and slathered it in butter.

“Now eat,” Viktor said, in a manner that reminded him of standing next to Sara in the kitchen, eating Italian takeout.  Eating with Viktor- hell, just being in his presence- felt comfortable.  

“Why don’t you come by my apartment tomorrow after work so we can go over the report,” Viktor suggested.  “I think you might be having a little bit of trouble with it.  I had trouble with it at first, too.  It’s not exactly intuitive, you know.  And it’s hard putting someone else’s data together.”

“Sure,” Yuuri said in between bites.  It would be good to get some extra insight into this damn report and it would be good to get to know Viktor better, too.  Yuuri smiled to himself as he sipped at his coffee.  He was really beginning to like it here.

The next day, Viktor came to get him promptly at five.  Earlier in the day, he’d dropped off a sandwich and a small cup of soup on his desk without a word.  The message was clear: Viktor knew he was skipping meals and working through lunch.  While he couldn’t make him stop working, he could make sure he at least had something nutritious to eat. 

Yuuri obediently slipped his laptop into his messenger bag and followed Viktor out of the office.  They flowed out onto the street and headed towards the train station.  At least the Parisians knew how to deal with mass transportation.  In that respect, they were almost as sensible as the Japanese. 

Yuuri noticed they got on a train heading into downtown Paris. 

“Will we have to switch trains?” Yuuri asked.

“No,” Viktor said.  “Just this one.”

Fifteen minutes later, they were stepping off the train onto the platform into a section of the city that Yuuri had yet to venture into.  There was so much of Paris to see and there were only so many hours in the day, most of which he was working.

They walked side by side, chatting as they made their way to Viktor’s flat.  Yuuri noticed the modern high rises next to the older buildings.  Paris was a blend of the old and new, just like Tokyo. 

Viktor led him into the lobby of one of the newer buildings and they took the elevator up to the twelfth floor.  Yuuri followed behind while Viktor walked up to one door and rang the bell.  Why would Viktor do that?  Was there someone else there in his apartment?  Was he letting his partner know that he was home?  But why would he ring the bell?  Why not just go in-

A young woman with her dark hair in twin braids opened the door.

“Ah, bonjour Viktor,” she said.  “Makkachin, vous attend!”  Yuuri couldn’t follow all the French, but there was something about someone waiting for him.  Several loud barks came from inside the apartment.  Grinning like a child, Viktor squatted down on the ground and held out his arms.  A large brown poodle padded up to Viktor, affectionately licking his face.

“Makka, ty byla khoroshey devushkoy dlya Suzette?”  Yuuri blinked.  That _definitely_ wasn’t French.  That sounded Russian.  Yuuri smiled: the poodle must be Viktor’s.  A bit of conversation followed between the young woman- apparently Suzette- and Viktor.  At one point, Suzette glanced at Yuuri and asked, “Est il ton petit ami?”

Viktor smiled and shook his head, his hair falling into his eyes.  “Non,” he replied, “il est juste mon ami.” 

Yuuri caught something about a friend, but the rest was too fast for him.  He sighed.  He really needed to practice his French more.

They said their goodbyes and Viktor leashed the poodle and led her towards Yuuri.

“Yuuri, I’d like you to meet the woman in my life, Makkachin,” Viktor said.  Yuuri laughed nervously while the poodle sniffed him.

“Oh, I probably should have asked if you like dogs before we picked her up,” Viktor said, looking at him with trepidation.

Yuuri crouched down and let the poodle sniff his hands.  The whuff of breath on his hands made him smile. “I love dogs.”

Viktor sighed and appeared to visibly relax.  The poodle- Makkachin?- gave one of Yuuri’s hands a timid and tentative lick.  Yuuri reached up and scratched her behind the ear.  She leaned into it, her tail beating a happy rhythm against Viktor’s leg.

“Good,” Viktor said.  Was it Yuuri’s imagination, or did Viktor sound relieved?  He pulled on Makkachin’s leash and headed back down the hall to the elevator.

“You don’t live on this floor?” Yuuri asked.

“Oh no,” Viktor sighed.  “Too expensive.”

They got back on the elevator and Viktor pushed the button for the seventh floor. 

Viktor’s apartment was much larger than Yuuri’s and full of expensive, modern furniture in shades of grey.  The view from Viktor’s living room was phenomenal.  From his living room windows, there was an unobstructed view of the Eiffel Tower off in the distance, lit up against the purpling evening sky.  Yuuri’s eyes went wide and he gasped. 

“I just realized that when you do interviews, you do them here,” Yuuri said, pointing at the tower.  “The Eiffel Tower is always in the background and I thought you went to a studio.  But this… this is your view?”

“Yes, but there are better views in the city,” Viktor demurred.   “Whenever I have to do an interview, I always have to do them at ungodly hours and going to a studio for that is more trouble than it’s worth.  So, yes, I do them here.  When I’m done, I can just go back to bed.”Yuuri shook his head and laughed.  This was so far beyond what he was used to.

“Come on,” Viktor said, “let’s get set up here in the dining room.  I’ll make dinner.”

Yuuri set up his computer while Viktor made sandwiches and sliced an apple for them, chatting to Makkachin in more lyrical Russian.  He offered to help, but Viktor wouldn’t let him. 

“Would you like some coffee?” Viktor asked, holding a battered and worn percolator-style coffee pot.  Yuuri looked at the pot in Viktor’s hands, so at odds with the rest of his fashionable and sleek apartment.  Viktor must have caught his look of surprise and he gave Yuuri a little half-smile.

“This was my uncle’s coffee pot,” Viktor said softly.  “He used it all the time when we were in Africa.  He didn’t start the day without a cup of coffee and he got me in the habit, too.  When he died, my aunt gave it to me.”  Viktor looked down at the pot, his expression softening as he turned the pot over in his hands.

Yuuri understood Viktor’s sentimentality.  He felt the same way about his mother’s worn donabe, now sitting in his kitchen.  Seeing Viktor standing in his expensive apartment with all its expensive things, holding an old coffee pot that had belonged to his uncle…  Yuuri blinked back sudden tears.

“I guess I should get a new one,” Viktor said, sounding almost embarrassed.  “It’s pretty old-”

“Why?” Yuuri said.  “It reminds you of the connection you had with him.   That’s special.  You shouldn’t get rid of it just because it’s old.”

Another half-smile crossed Viktor’s face, this one tinged with happiness rather than sorrow.

“You’re right,” Viktor said, brightening.  “So, would you like some coffee?”

“Yes, please,” Yuuri answered.  “I’d love some.”They drank coffee with their sandwiches and apple slices.  They ate side by side at Viktor’s kitchen table and it felt easy and comfortable.

Makkachin lounged at Yuuri’s feet, clearly happy to have a new human to cuddle up next to.  More than once, Yuuri caught Viktor looking at them.

“I don’t understand people who don’t like dogs,” Viktor offered as they looked over the latest data set from the field.  “I once went out on a date with someone who didn’t like dogs.  Fifteen minutes into the date, he said he hated dogs.  I smiled, called the waiter over, and asked for the bill.”

Yuuri laughed and nodded in understanding.  So they had something else in common.  Things just got a whole lot harder.

It would be easy, so easy, to let the little crush he’d been nursing for Viktor develop into a full-blown thing.  It would be easy, so easy, to let himself fall in love with him.  Viktor was perfect in every respect, simply perfect.

And Viktor was his supervisor.  Yuuri knew the last thing he needed to do was feed his attraction for Viktor.  He could push it out of himself, focus on his work, and be happy that he at least got to be close to Viktor.  That was enough, wasn’t it? 

It would have to be.

* * *

 

It became routine for one of them to go over to the other’s flat after work, to continue working and to have dinner.  Usually they ended up at Viktor’s because otherwise he had to bring Makkachin over to his apartment, which Yuuri didn’t mind one bit.  More than once, they’d stopped working to take Makkachin out for a walk in the park and enjoy the crisp autumn air.

The night that Yuuri had to use the radiator in his apartment for the first time, he realized that he spent more time with Viktor than apart from him.  They worked together, they ate most of their meals together, had welcomed each other into their homes…  He missed Viktor when he wasn’t around.  And when Viktor had to go to Geneva for a few days the week before, they were in constant communication, either emailing or texting while they were in the office and facetiming in the evenings to discuss how Viktor’s day had gone and what progress Yuuri had made on the data still steadily coming in.Phichit came to see him one of these afternoons and gave him a wicked smile when he found out Yuuri was texting Viktor.

“Again or still?” Phichit asked.  When Yuuri gave him a blank look, Phichit just shook his head and sighed.

When Viktor returned to the office, it was like the sun came out from behind the clouds for Yuuri. He made a couple of excuses to go to Viktor’s office and he was glad when Viktor stopped by to see him. 

Yuuri had it bad and he knew it.  And he didn’t care. 

* * *

 

“Are you still here?” Viktor said, sticking his head around the corner of Yuuri’s office.  “It’s late!  You need to get out of here.”  Viktor looked like he was about to shoo Yuuri out of his own office, but then thought better of it. 

“Did you know there’s a ramen house a couple of kilometers away?” he said, leaning on Yuuri’s desk.  “We could walk there, get dinner-”

Suddenly, Yuuri was hungry.  Very hungry.  And ramen sounded _really_ good right now.

“Sure,” Yuuri said, closing his laptop as he stood and put on his coat.  “Ramen sounds great.”

Viktor didn’t know the first thing about eating ramen.  Yuuri watched him order with amusement, then winced as he tried to neatly eat his bowl of noodles. 

“You’re doing it wrong,” Yuuri said, pausing with his chopsticks halfway to his mouth. “You have to slurp them, like this.”  Yuuri brought the chopsticks to his mouth and noisily slurped the noodles off of them, licking his lips to get the last of the broth.

“You’re kidding,” Viktor laughed.  “I was taught as a child not to slurp, now you _want_ me to slurp?”  He shook his head in amusement.

Yuuri grunted around another mouthful of noodles.

“Look around,” he muttered as he grabbed more noodles from the bowl.  “I’m not the only one doing it, am I?”

Viktor paused and looked around, taking in all the people hunched over their bowls, noisily slurping up their noodles.

“Okay, I’ll try it,” Viktor said.  Yuuri almost laughed as he watched Viktor slowly suck a single noodle into his mouth.  When Viktor looked at him for approval, he nodded and ducked his head to hide his smile over his bowl.

What was really funny was watching Viktor try to pick up the soft boiled eggs nestled among the noodles.  After letting him struggle for almost a minute, Yuuri took pity on him and said, “Do it like this,” and neatly plucked one of the eggs out of Viktor’s bowl.

For a second, he thought about eating it, but Viktor’s yelp and subsequent pout made him think twice.  Instead, he held the egg out in his chopsticks to Viktor and fed it to him.  Viktor never once looked at the egg: he maintained eye contact with Yuuri the entire time. 

“Oh, that’s really good,” Viktor mumbled around the egg.  Yuuri smiled, taking pleasure in watching him eat.  And then Viktor smiled his heart-shaped smiled again and said, “Vkusno!”

Yuuri didn’t need a translation.  It was obvious from his reaction that he thought it was delicious.  Yuuri agreed.

“You’re blushing,” Viktor said, a hint of a smile playing along his lips.  “How utterly adorable!”

It almost felt like Viktor was flirting with him.  Yuuri quickly slurped up another mouthful of noodles.

A sudden clap of thunder sounded overhead, causing people in the restaurant to gasp. 

“I don’t suppose you brought an umbrella?” Viktor asked as the skies opened up outside.

* * *

 

The next day, Yuuri was walking past Viktor’s office when he heard Chris and Viktor talking inside.

“At least you’re not spending half the day watching YouTube videos about how to eat with chopsticks again,” he heard Chris mutter. 

A little later, Yuuri pulled Phichit aside to talk to him.

“I’m confused about things,” Yuuri said quietly, looking around in case someone heard him.

“Are there some procedures you don’t understand?” Phichit asked.  “I’d be happy to go over them again with you if you like.”

“No, it’s not about work… it’s about…” Yuuri looked down, not sure how to phrase it.  He took a deep breath and spat it out.

“Phichit, are European guys just a lot more… friendly… than other guys?”

Phichit narrowed his eyes and frowned.

“Did Chris grab your ass again?” Phichit fumed. “I told him not to, guess I’ll have to tell him again-”

“No no no,” Yuuri said, holding out his hands.  “It’s not…  Chris.”

One of Phichit’s eyebrows shot up.  He leaned forward and whispered, “Did Viktor grab your ass?”

“NO!” Yuuri yelped, then immediately slapped a hand over his mouth and cringed from how loud he was.  Phichit looked around, but no one came to investigate.

“No, Viktor did not grab my ass,” Yuuri continued when he was more composed.  “But sometimes the way he behaves…  Phichit, if we were back in America, I’d say he was flirting with me.  I’m sure I’m wrong, but-”

“What does he do?” Phichit asked.

“Well, he comes to my office several times a day,” Yuuri said.  “And we usually eat lunch together.  Sometimes, when I’m in my office and he needs to see something, he walks behind my desk and leans on me, almost like he’s draping himself across me.  He actually touches me a lot.  Does he do this to you?”

Phichit shook his head.  “No.  Viktor doesn’t touch me.”  Phichit pursed his lips in thought.  “He doesn’t touch Chris either.  I never took Viktor for the touchy/feely type.  I guess it’s just you.”

What the hell did that mean?  Yuuri sat there worrying his lower lip when Phichit chuckled and began to snap his fingers.

“Like a moth to the flame, burned by the fire,” Phichit began to sing, only to be cut off by a groan from Yuuri.

“I think that’s enough Janet Jackson lyrics for today,” Yuuri said. 

“Fine, spoil my fun,” Phitchit sassed.  “So, how do you feel about it?  Are these advances unwelcome?  If they are, have you tried telling him to stop?”

Yuuri shrugged.  He didn’t mind Viktor’s attention, it was just that he wasn’t sure what it meant.  Was it serious?  Was he like this with everyone?

“Yuuri, if you like him, you should-” Phichit began, but before he could say anything more, Chris came to let them know it was time for the meeting.

“We’ll talk about this later, Yuuri,” Phichit said as they all headed down the hall to Viktor’s office for the FaceTime meeting with Lilia in Africa to discuss the next phase.

* * *

 

One afternoon, while Yuuri was getting ready to go over to Viktor’s for the evening, Viktor came to see him.

“Are you about ready to go back out into the field?” Viktor asked, brimming over with excitement.

“Sure.  What’s going on?” Yuuri asked.  He was busy looking at the data that had just come in, but that could wait.  If there was a possibility that they might be going out into the field, Yuuri wanted to hear all about it.

“There’s a situation in South America,” Viktor said, parking a hip on the edge of Yuuri’s desk.  “It looks like there might be an outbreak brewing in Peru.  Four people in a remote village in the rainforest have died of what they thought was dengue.  One of them had his blood drawn and sent off for confirmation but it came back positive for hantavirus instead.  We just got the request for assistance from the Peruvian government about an hour ago.  Are you ready for a trip?”

Yuuri smiled, but it was a grim smile.  He was eager to get back out into the field, but it distressed him that people had perished. 

“If you’re not ready, there are other teams they can send-”

“No, no I’m ready,” Yuuri said quickly.  “I’m ready to go whenever you are.”

“Good,” Viktor said, pulling a pill bottle out of the pocket of his lab coat and set it down with a clack on Yuuri’s desk.  “I already told them we’d be on the plane tomorrow.  Here’s your doxycycline. You want to start that now to prevent malaria while we’re down there.”

Yuuri began to shut down his computer, preparing to go home and pack.  “Let’s meet here tomorrow morning at six.  We can go over all our field supplies and head to the airport from there.”  And then Viktor was gone, heading to his own apartment to pack.  Yuuri smiled to himself as he closed his laptop and got ready to head home to pack.  It was good to be back, but it was even better to head out into the field with a wonderful partner by his side. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **mon cher** \- my dear (referring to a man)
> 
>  **Ah, bonjour Viktor. Makkachin, vous attend!** \- Ah, hello Viktor. Makkachin, come here!
> 
>  **Макка, ты была хорошей девушкой для Suzette?- Makka, ty byla khoroshey devushkoy dlya Suzette?** \- Makka, you were a good girl for Suzette?
> 
>  **Est il ton petit ami?** \- Is he your boyfriend?
> 
>  **Non, il est juste mon ami.** \- No, he's just my friend.
> 
> Since I don't read Cyrillic and don't know what sounds are related to characters, I have used the romanization in the story. 
> 
> I have used Google for some of these phrases, but I am aware that, on occasion, Google lies. So, if I got something wrong, feel free to correct me.
> 
> There are four biosafety levels in labs, ranging from 1 (for the least infectious agents) to 4 (for things that are deadly to humans and have no cure or vaccine). BSL2 is fairly standard. BSL4 is hard to get certified for and very dangerous. I'll get more into this later when appropriate. If you're curious and want to read about it, you can find information [here](https://academicdepartments.musc.edu/vpfa/operations/Risk%20Management/biosafety/bsl2). 
> 
> The lyric used is the opening line to Janet Jackson's [That's The Way Love Goes](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NpQ88a6zy8E).
> 
> This is the first of two wonderful pieces of art created by Littorella for this fic. [Go show her some love!](https://littorella.tumblr.com)
> 
>  
> 
> [I'm on Tumblr...](http://paintingwithwords.tumblr.com)


	7. Añoranza

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “How long have you two been together?” Mari asked in Japanese when Viktor excused himself from the table.
> 
> “We’re not,” Yuuri replied. Yes, Viktor was attractive and kind and smart and everything he ever could want in as partner, but Viktor was his supervisor. He knew better than to sleep with someone he worked with. And it would definitely be the mother of all bad ideas to sleep with his boss. 
> 
> “Why not?” Mari asked, drumming her fingers on the table. “He’s obviously interested in you, and I know your weakness for pretty men…”  
> “He’s my supervisor!” Yuuri hissed. He was certain he was blushing, proof of what Mari had said. Viktor was certainly pretty. Very pretty. Unfairly pretty-
> 
> “So?!” Mari laughed. “He understands your passion, Yuuri! He gets what drives you- it drives him, too! I can’t think of a better person to pick for a partner.” 
> 
> “He understands what you do and why you do it, unlike your asshole ex,” Mari said. “He didn’t understand you at all, Yuuri. Now Viktor, on the other hand, he not only understands what motivates you, but he only has eyes for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all again so very much for the support! :-)
> 
> FYI, there is a mention of getting blood samples from live animals in this chapter.

Yuuri looked at the lush and beautiful rainforest below them as they began their descent.  Where in the hell were they supposed to land?  He didn’t see anything that looked remotely like a runway.

“Isn’t it gorgeous?” Viktor breathed, looking out the window at the dense tropical canopy.  Yuuri didn’t answer: he was ready to be back on solid ground.

Up ahead, he thought he saw a clearing in the jungle, an area where some of the trees had been cut down and the forest turned into farmland.  On the left hand side of the clearing, a long, dark streak appeared, like a gash in the earth itself.  Yuuri swallowed nervously.

“Is that the runway?” Yuuri asked as the small plane continued to descend.

“Yes,” their pilot Alfonso replied as he nosed them down.  “The landing here is not always so good.  You should hang on.”

What in the hell did that mean?  Yuuri closed his eyes and gripped his seatbelt.  He was so ready to be the fuck off this plane.

They had been traveling for almost twenty-four hours and Yuuri was tired, despite the catnaps he’d caught on the plane.   The flight from Paris to Lima had taken twelve hours on its own.  Then there was the meeting with one of the government officials with the Ministry of Health in Lima, a young doctor named Miguel Andrade. 

As they sat in his office, sweltering in their suits, Doctor Andrade explained to them that there had been several deaths in the small, isolated village of Añoranza, deep in the heart of the Peruvian rainforest.  The doctor who served the area at first thought she was dealing with an outbreak of dengue, which was endemic in the area, but when a wealthy member of the village had taken ill, she’d drawn his blood and sent it off for testing.  The samples came back negative for dengue, but positive for hantavirus. 

The government was worried that the others may have also died from hantavirus and feared they might have the beginnings of an outbreak on their hands.  They asked for help from the world Health Organization, who in turn contacted the Institut Pasteur.  Viktor and Yuuri had been sent to help get the situation under control.

Yuuri sighed in frustration.  So often, the welfare of the poor or those who held no sway in the community was ignored or overlooked.  Wealth and power always seemed to make all the difference.  Doctor Andrade looked at him quizzically.

“So,” Yuuri said, “it’s possible that this virus has been circulating for a while now, but no one thought to take a closer look until someone ‘important’ died?” 

Next to him, Viktor winced.  Doctor Andrade shot him a reproachful look and proceeded to ignore him for most of the rest of the two hour meeting.  It gave Yuuri time to think and he realized he would have had a hard time recognizing that there was something else at work here.  The symptoms of dengue and hantavirus were very similar, and doctors were trained to look for the more common explanation for an illness rather than the exotic one.  _“When you hear hoofbeats, think horses, not zebras.”_   He’d heard the old adage a million times.  In this case, the attending physician thought of the more common diagnosis.  It was only when she played a hunch that they discovered they had something more unusual on their hands.

After the meeting, they returned to the airport to wait another three hours for their connecting flight to Iquitos.  From Iquitos, the only way to get to into the heart of the rainforests of Loreto was on a small thirteen-seat Cessna, and that was where they were now, coming in for a landing that their pilot blithely said might not be so good.

They bounced hard a couple of times, losing energy and speed every time the wheels contacted the ground.  Finally they stayed on the ground, taxiing down a runway that was little better than a dirt road.  Next to him, Viktor laughed.

“Oh, that was exhilarating!” Viktor said, his blue eyes twinkling with mirth.  Yuuri wondered if Viktor was using some definition of the word he wasn’t familiar with. 

At they neared the end of the runway, a Jeep came out of the trees and approached them. 

“Okay,” Alfonso said as he killed the propellers, “time to get you unloaded.”

Yuuri unbelted and headed to the back of the plane to start unfastening all their gear and getting it ready to unload.  Would all their equipment fit in the Jeep?

Alfonso opened the door and an attractive young woman with her dark hair swept back in a ponytail stuck her head in the plane.

“¡Eso es un montón de cosas!” she exclaimed, then looked up at them and smiled.  “¡Hola!  I’m Consuela Rodriguez.  You two must be the doctors they sent to help, yes?”

Viktor nodded and introduced them both as he took off his tie and rolled up his sleeves, ready to get to work.  Yuuri only nodded at Consuela as he hauled the first trunk out of the plane and set it down by the Jeep.  Right now, he just wanted all their equipment off this flying death trap as soon as possible.

“I’m supposed to be your transportation and your translator while you’re here,” Consuela said, helping Viktor with the next trunk.  “No one in the village speaks English and the officials in Lima told me on the phone you don’t speak Spanish.”

Yuuri was grateful that they’d actually have a translator.  He’d poured over the conversational Spanish book he’d downloaded, but he knew it would only go so far.

Carefully, Yuuri and Viktor hauled their gear from the plane and loaded it into the Jeep.  Consuela helped them arrange things in the back and took some of the smaller items, but Alfonso seemed content to lean against the side of the plane and take the opportunity for a cigarette break.  He chatted in Spanish with Consuela while the three of them worked. 

A light breeze lifted Viktor’s bangs from his face while they loaded the Jeep and it struck Yuuri just how beautiful Viktor was.  Quickly he looked away.  The last thing he needed were any unwanted feelings stirring up now.

“I think that’s as good as it’s going to get,” Consuela said when the last of their supplies had been unloaded, pausing to wipe the sweat from her brow.  Yuuri noticed for the first time just how tight her shirt was.  And that Viktor’s gaze was directed right at her chest.  Jealously bubbled up in him, acrid and bitter.  He knew Viktor liked men.  Did he like women, too?  Yuuri squashed the thought and went back into the plane to grab their jackets, thanking Alfonso on the way out.  Alfonso merely grunted as he ground out his cigarette in the dirt, got in, and started the engines up.

Yuuri wedged himself into the back of the Jeep between their luggage and trunks.  It was a tight fit, but it was only temporary.  Viktor climbed into the front, next to Consuela. 

“Let’s go,” Consuela said, smiling at Viktor as they headed off into the forest.  The road was little more than two ruts in the dirt.  Consuela started down the road at breakneck speed, the branches of trees flying past.  In the front seat, Viktor let out a little whoop and Consuela laughed, delighted.

‘ _And I was afraid the plane ride was going to kill me_ ,’ Yuuri thought, gripping his seat belt as they sped through the jungle.

* * *

 

The village of Añoranza was a small farming community carved out of the rainforest, consisting of about seventy homes and two hundred and fifty people.  Most of the homes were simple dwellings with only one or two rooms.  As such, there was no place for them to stay in the village.  Luckily, a film crew shooting a documentary had set up a camp on the outskirts of the village.  They had recently left and the site was free for them to use.

They unloaded the Jeep, carefully setting their trunks full of supplies down as they went.  Consuela would have offered to let them stay with her, but she was staying with a host family in a neighboring village and they didn’t have room for anyone else.  Once everything was unloaded, Consuela gave Viktor her number and left for the evening, with the promise to be back a little after dawn tomorrow to take them wherever they needed to go.

Even though they were both exhausted, Yuuri and Viktor changed into jeans and long-sleeved t-shirts and packed their impractical suits away.  Then they began the process of setting up camp, starting with the tent. 

It was supposed to sleep four, but Yuuri could only see that if everyone slept right next to one another, lined up like sardines in a can.  They were going to be in very close quarters.  Next, they put up their cots and placed a small table and lantern in between them.  The cots were covered with repellent-infused mosquito nets suspended from the top of the tent.  It wouldn’t do to come here to study an outbreak of hantavirus only to fall ill from something they could prevent like malaria or yellow fever. 

Despite how tired they both were, they finished setting up their outside workspace and organized their supplies.  By the time everything was done, Yuuri was ready to drop.  He sat down heavily on his cot and sighed.  It would be so easy to just fall over and go right to sleep…

Viktor sat down next to him, two pouches of MREs in his hands, and gave Yuuri a tired smile.

“Which one do you want?” Viktor asked, looking at the two pouches critically.  “This one’s meatballs.  And this one’s… well shit, it’s meatballs, too.”  Viktor huffed out a laugh and held them up for Yuuri to choose.

“I’ll have the meatballs, thanks,” Yuuri said, ripping into the pouch.  Truthfully, he didn’t feel hungry, but he knew he needed to eat. 

“It’ll be good to have Consuela with us tomorrow,” Viktor said.  “I’m hoping we can get a lot done.”Yuuri closed his eyes and sighed to himself.  Yes, they needed a translator, but did she have to be so attractive?  And did Viktor have to be so obvious with his flirting? 

After dinner, Yuuri begged off to bed.  He should be excited to be doing what he loved again.  But all he could think about was how Viktor and Consuela had smiled at one another and how it made him ache to see Viktor look at someone else like that.  If only Viktor would look at him that way...

* * *

 

In the morning, Viktor pulled his uncle’s old percolator style coffee pot out of his personal belongings. 

“I’m not starting the day without coffee,” Viktor said as he placed the pot on a small camp stove and began heating water.  Yuuri scratched his head and smiled.  Coffee would be wonderful.

They were investigating their options for breakfast MREs when Consuela arrived.

“I have a present for you!” she said brightly, bearing three plates in her hands.  Each plate had eggs, fried potatoes and chiles, and tortillas.  Yuuri thought he’d never had such a wonderful breakfast in his entire life.

They sat outside the tent, using a fallen tree as a bench.  Consuela sat down on the other side of Viktor and started talking to him.  Yuuri noticed her shirt was much lower cut than the one she’d worn the previous day and that she seemed to hang on Viktor’s every word.  And Viktor seemed to be eating it up.  Yuuri frowned into his plate.

“This is a gift from Gabriela,” Consuela said, indicating their meals.  “This is her way of saying thank you for coming here to help.  Not many people outside care what happens to people who live in the rainforest.”

“I’ve seen the same thing in Africa,” Viktor said.  “No one cares what happens there until they think it threatens them.  _Then_ they want to act.” He sighed heavily, obviously distressed.  Yuuri understood his feelings all too well. 

“Last night, you said you were staying here with a host family,” Viktor said in an obvious effort to change the subject.  “Why are you here?”

“I’m here to study the indigenous language in this part of Peru,” Consuela answered in between bites.  “The adults aren’t teaching it to their children any more.  Most of the children only know Spanish.  Language is a living thing, just like culture.  If you don’t give it to the next generation, it will die.  That’s why I’m here, to learn it before it’s gone.”

“That’s very admirable of you,” Viktor said.  “Do you want to continue to teach it to others?  Or are you here to record and preserve it?”

“The second one,” Consuela replied sadly.  “I can’t save it.  I can only preserve it for history.  I grew and went to school in Mexico City, in the shadow of the pyramids of Tenochtitlan.  All the wonderful things the Aztecs and Maya and Inca did- they are all gone.  All we have is their ruins.   We still carry their blood, but their culture is gone.” 

For a moment, they all sat in silence.  Yuuri was the first to speak.

“First we’re visiting the doctor who runs the clinic and then we’ll come back and look at the house of the man who died of hantavirus,” Yuuri said, trying to get the conversation back on track.  “How far away is the clinic from here?”

“Maybe fifteen kilometers,” Consuela answered.  “It’s in a town by the Amazon called Ojalá and all the people from the surrounding villages go there.”

“Okay, let’s get started,” Viktor said, standing up and stretching.  He washed off his plate and handed it back to Consuela.  “Please be sure to tell Gabriela that we appreciate her kindness and won’t forget her wonderful gift to us.”

Consuela put their plates on the floorboard in the back.  Yuuri made sure not to step on them when he got in.

“Let’s go,” she said.  Yuuri only hoped she wouldn’t drive quite so badly this time.  He didn’t think his nerves could stand another day of branches whipping against the side of the Jeep as they drove past.

* * *

 

Fans circulated the warm air inside the doctor’s office and screens over the windows kept the mosquitoes out.  The doctor let them know that Eduardo Dominguez, the man who had died of hantavirus, had paid for the construction of the clinic shortly after he married and moved here several years ago.

“He will be missed,” the doctor said through Consuela. 

“Did Eduardo have any family or friends that we could talk to?” Yuuri asked.  Perhaps they could shed some light on what had happened.

“His only family was his wife and she died two weeks before he did,” Consuela translated.  “Corazón was only sick a few days and Eduardo brought her here because he thought she had the flu.  The doctor thought she probably had dengue and told her to go home, take painkillers, and rest in bed.  She died two days later.”

Yuuri worried at his lower lip.  While dengue was endemic in this region, influenza wasn’t much of a concern here.  He suspected that Corazón had died of hantavirus as well, but she had already been buried and no sample of her blood had been taken before her death.  It was only when her husband Eduardo, a pillar of the local community, had fallen ill that anyone suspected they had something else on their hands. 

They needed to get inside their house and have a look around.  But today, they could only examine the outside.  It would be a couple of days before they could get the key and go in.

“Tell us about the other people who died recently in the village,” Viktor asked.

“Doctor Cavazos says it was a father and a daughter,” Consuela said.  “She says both the baby and her father were sick for a few days before they died.  He died the day after she did.  That was a few days before Eduardo died.  She thought it was dengue because there’s been a lot of it this year, but now she thinks maybe it was the same thing that killed Eduardo.”

“Could we visit their home?” Viktor asked. 

Consuela nodded.  “Yes, we can go tomorrow and talk to his wife, if you like.”

“Yes, please,” Viktor said.  They thanked the doctor, then headed out for Eduardo’s home.  Hopefully, they could find something there that might help them.

* * *

 

Yuuri walked around Eduardo’s property, looking for anything that might be out of the ordinary.  There was a small garden in back that looked like it had only recently fallen into disuse.  Some of the plants there still had fruits and vegetables on them, but others had ripened and fallen off, left to rot where they fell. More than one melon had evidence of being nibbled by a rodent. 

High grass surrounded the property, the perfect habitat for rodents.  They could come out of the grass, forage in the garden, then return to the relative safety of the overgrown field when they were done.

“What kind of rainfall have you had this year?” Viktor asked.  “Has it been normal?  Did they get a lot of rain?  Or is it more like a drought?” 

Looking at the garden and how green it was after a month of neglect, Yuuri highly doubted drought conditions. 

“The people in Añoranza say there’s been a lot of rain this year,” Consuela said.  “Why?  You think the rain made these people sick?”

“Not directly,” Viktor said, shaking his head.  He turned to look at Yuuri.  “What do you think we might be dealing with here?”

Yuuri stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans and looked back over the tall grass.

“Heavy rainfall means more plants,” Yuuri said.  “An abundance of plants means that the things that eat them, such as rodents, are abundant as well.  They have more food to eat, so the population swells to a point where the food surplus can support it.  More rodents means they encroach into areas where they normally don’t go.  Look at the grass out here.”  He pointed to the tall grass, waving in the warm breeze.

“The grass provides food and cover for rodents.  But with this garden just on the edge of the field, rodents will come here, looking for more opportunities to forage.”  He walked over to one of the melons lying on the ground and pointed at the nibble marks in the rind with the toe of his shoe, careful not to touch the melon.

“This looks like some rodents have been here already,” Yuuri said.  “Rodents often defecate where they eat as well.  And rodents are known carriers of things like hantavirus, which can mimic the symptoms of dengue.  Hantavirus can also cause otherwise healthy individuals to get sick and die very quickly.”

He turned and looked at Viktor. 

“I think we need to set out traps and see what kind of rodents are in the area.  Then we need to take samples from them and send them off to be tested for hantavirus. That’s what killed Eduardo and I would be willing to bet that’s what killed the other people that they thought died of dengue.”

Viktor's expression was unreadable.  Next to him, Consuela looked at Yuuri with admiration and awe, and maybe a little bit of fear.

“Um, that’s what I would do, at least,” he said, suddenly feeling very self-conscious.  “Wh-what do you think, Viktor?”A slow, appreciative smile spread over Viktor’s face.  God, Yuuri would do anything to see that happen again.

“I think that’s an excellent idea,” Viktor said.  “Let’s head back to camp and unpack the rodent traps-”

“Wait,” Consuela said, holding up a hand.  “You can tell all that, just from this?”  She looked down at the partially eaten melon, then back at Yuuri and Viktor.  “That’s it?  That’s all you need?”

“Well, that and a few other things,” Viktor started, only to be interrupted by Consuela’s nervous laugh.

“Dios mío,” she whispered in admiration.  “This is brujería- witchcraft.  But this is the good kind!”

“No, this is science,” Viktor said, shooting a look at Yuuri, “and excellent deductive reasoning.”

“I hope you have more of that, because I think you are going to need it,” Consuela said as they got back into her Jeep.  Yuuri couldn’t help but think that maybe she was right.

* * *

 

In the evening after Consuela dropped them off, they worked up a questionnaire for the villagers.  Afterwards, Yuuri rooted around in the trunk of MREs, trying to find something palatable.  They had enough prepackaged meals to feed them for a month, but he wanted to find something that hopefully tasted a little better than last night’s meatballs.  Finding two pouches of sweet and sour chicken with rice, Yuuri headed outside to eat dinner with Viktor on the fallen tree.  But Viktor wasn’t there.

“Viktor?” he called, thinking maybe Viktor had needed to use the facilities, such as they were.  The last thing he wanted to do was disturb Viktor if that was the case.

But the latrine was empty.  Yuuri looked around, wondering where Viktor was.  Certainly he hadn’t gone off on his own-

“Viktor?” Yuuri called again, walking around the perimeter of their camp.  He thought he heard Viktor’s voice and headed towards it, only to find Viktor stepping out of their camp shower, naked and wet, glistening in the light of the setting sun like some flawless god, rubbing a towel over his hair.

Yuuri’s mouth fell open and the pouches fell out of his nerveless hands, hitting the ground.

Viktor smiled at him, soft and gentle.  Quickly, Yuuri scrambled to grab the MREs on the ground and avert his eyes. 

“Ah- sorry, Viktor!” Yuuri babbled.  “I didn’t know-”

“It’s alright,” Viktor said, walking towards him.  Yuuri hazarded a glance upwards, then quickly looked away.  Viktor was still rubbing his hair and not even bothering to try to cover anything up. 

“I see you got us dinner,” Viktor said, taking one of the pouches out of Yuuri’s hands.  Yuuri kept his eyes trained on Viktor’s face.  He would not look down, he would not look at those flawless abs-

“Y-yes,” Yuuri replied.  He could feel the heat rushing to his cheeks.  His embarrassment only made it worse. 

“Thank you!” Viktor said, finally wrapping the towel around his waist and heading back to the tent.  “Let me get dressed and we can eat, okay?”

Yuuri only nodded.  If he tried to talk, his voice would crack like he was going through puberty all over again.  What in the hell was wrong with him? 

“The water’s not too bad,” Viktor said as he dried off his legs.  Yuuri could see him doing it in his peripheral vision.  He was not going to look up and watch Viktor.  It would be rude and a violation of Viktor’s privacy to gawk.  And they were grown men.  There was no reason he should want to steal a glance at Viktor’s body like this.  It was like cheating.  Yuuri kept his head down, giving Viktor as much respect and privacy as he could under the circumstances.

Once Viktor was dressed, they sat down and ate on the fallen tree again, discussing what questions they should ask of the villagers and where they should set up traps. The only way to know for sure if this virus was being carried by the local rodent population was to test them and that meant catching some of them.

“You should probably take a shower before it gets dark,” Viktor said.  “It’ll be harder to see your way back to camp in the dark, unless you take a lantern.” 

Yuuri only nodded and finished the last of his dinner.  It was better than last night’s had been, but he definitely didn’t want to have to live off of these.

“I’ll take my shower now,” he muttered as entered the tent to undress.  When he picked up his towel, he noticed Viktor watching him out of the corner of his eye.  But when Yuuri turned to head out to the shower, Viktor looked away.  Yuuri walked past him, wondering if perhaps the feelings he harbored for Viktor weren’t mutual.  He shook his head and sighed.  What a stupid thought.  There was no way Viktor found him attractive, and even if he did, there was no way they could ever act on it. 

Yuuri showered quickly and when he returned to their tent, Viktor was already in bed, his back turned to Yuuri.  He dressed for bed and slipped under the covers, but it was a long time before he could fall asleep.

* * *

 

The next day, Consuela acted as translator for them again when they talked with Ynez, the young woman who had lost both her daughter and her husband in the space of two days.  They found out she was also the niece of Corazón and that her husband Felipe had taken their baby over to visit her aunt shortly before she became ill. 

“Corazón loved children,” Consuela translated for her.  “They wanted a baby of their own.  And now, they are all gone.”  Yuuri understood how she felt.  He knew how hard it was to watch those you loved die. 

After they left her house, they headed out to talk to the first group of villagers.  They had decided to divide the village into quadrants and today they were talking to people on the north side of the village, going from house to house and examining everyone who lived there.  Consuela spoke to the children in Spanish, but the older members of the community spoke to her in the language she had come here to learn and preserve.  Yuuri listened in, thinking the rhythm and flow of the words was lovely. 

Yuuri noticed new schoolbooks written in Spanish inside the homes with children and sighed.  Eduardo had given them out to all the children a few days before he fell ill.  Yuuri knew that this community would sorely miss someone who had taken their welfare to heart. 

The majority of the homes they visited were clean and well-kept.  Yuuri also noted the presence of wooden rodent traps around the homes.  He asked about it and Consuela said that the people here knew the rodents could carry disease and they kept them out of their homes as best they could.  She said they also knew not to handle them or their droppings and to clean up after them if they got inside the home. 

He bit his lip, chewing on that bit of information.  If they knew that the rodents carried disease and not to touch them or their droppings, then how were they getting sick?  Was it happening when they went out to work the fields by the rainforest?  Viktor apparently wondered the same thing.  He asked Consuela what precautions the people took when they farmed and she told him they covered their mouths and noses with bandanas or old shirts and washed off when they were done.

Yuuri noticed Viktor was tapping his finger against his lips, deep in thought.  Something didn’t add up here.  There had to be another way the virus was transmitting, and so far they had yet to find it.

In the center of the village, there was a covered area with several tables and low benches arranged in a circle.  Cooking pits had been dug in the earth and had recently been used, if the charred remains of firewood were anything to go by.  An idea came to Yuuri and he turned to Consuela, who was sitting next to Viktor as he recorded information on the forms.

“Consuela,” he asked, looking under the tables for rodent droppings, “is this a gathering place for the community?  Do they do a lot of cooking here?”

“They do,” she answered, smiling.  “They have celebrations here and they all get together and cook.  Do you want them to cook for you?  We could probably arrange that.”

“No,” Yuuri replied.  “Do you know the last time they cooked here together?”

“They were here for Eduardo’s funeral,” she replied. 

“What about before then?” Yuuri asked.  If they had been here a month before Eduardo and the others died, it was possible that they contracted the virus here.  There were a few droppings under one of the benches.  If they had gone unnoticed, this would be the perfect place for people who lived in different parts of the community to contract the same illness.  But it still didn’t explain Corazón’s death, unless she really did die from something other than the hantavirus that had claimed her husband.

“It was for a wedding in the summer,” Consuela said. 

Yuuri sighed.  Well, at least this was one possibility that they could eliminate.  He just hoped they could find out how this virus was spreading soon.

* * *

 

In the middle of the night, Yuuri woke in a panic.  He lay on his cot, fight-or-flight adrenaline pulsing through his veins, his breath harsh and loud in the silence of the tent.  He sat up and put a hand to his chest, gasping.

“Yuuri?” Viktor called.  He wanted to answer, but he couldn’t breathe and his heart was pounding in his chest-

_“YUURI!”_ Viktor yelled, peeling back the mosquito netting and grabbing him.  Yuuri blinked as Viktor’s terrified face swam in his vision.  “What’s wrong?  Did something bite you?  Did you have a nightmare?  Yuuri, _talk_ to me!”

He drew a shaky breath and managed to get out, “I’m… okay… anxiety attack...”

“Anxiety?” Viktor repeated.  Yuuri nodded, trying his best to quit trembling and take a deep breath.   He squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he could just curl up on his side and ride it out, but Viktor wouldn’t let go of him.  Viktor was holding him, soothing him, murmuring to him-

Of all the times and places for his anxiety to rear its ugly head, it would have to be here, in the middle of the night, in the middle of the rainforest, alone with Viktor.  And Viktor was the last person he ever wanted to know about his anxiety.

_Fuck_ his anxiety.

The attacks that happened in his sleep were the worst, the hardest to get through, because he had absolutely no warning they were coming.  Sometimes it was because of a dream and sometimes they just happened.  He would wake in the middle of an attack and have to ride it out. 

Weakly, he pushed Viktor away and sat up, gulping for air.  He grabbed onto the side of the cot and breathed in through his nose for three seconds, held it for another three, and exhaled for four out of his slightly parted lips, just like he’d been taught.  Viktor sat beside him, a supportive hand rubbing his back. 

“How can I help?” Viktor asked as Yuuri repeated the exercise.

“Water,” Yuuri said on the exhale.  When Viktor got up, Yuuri could feel the whole cot trembling, thanks to his nervousness.  Before he could do more than acknowledge the fact, Viktor was back with a bottle of water.  He unscrewed the cap and held it out for Yuuri.

“Thank you,” Yuuri whispered, taking the bottle and drinking from it.  Viktor’s hand returned to his back, stroking him soothingly. 

“Is this okay?” Viktor asked, hesitant.  Yuuri nodded, drawing in another breath. 

After several minutes, the anxiety finally loosened its stranglehold on Yuuri.  The tension flowed from his body, leaving him drained.  He found he was leaning on Viktor without meaning to.  Viktor helped Yuuri lie down on the cot, then lay down next to him, one hand carding through his hair. 

Yuuri was so tired and felt so humiliated, laid low by forces beyond his control.  How weak he must seem to Viktor.  But Viktor didn’t seem to notice: he just kept caressing Yuuri’s hair, humming a wordless tune under his breath. 

“You’re okay now, Yuuri,” Viktor murmured, soft and low.  “Get some rest.”

Yuuri’s limbs felt heavy, and he closed his eyes, letting Viktor hum him back to sleep. 

* * *

 

In the morning, Viktor rearranged the tent and put his cot next to Yuuri’s.

“If it happens again, I’ll be right there and I can help you,” he said.  Yuuri was too tired and embarrassed to argue.  He merely drank another cup of coffee, determined to push himself through the day no matter how much he wanted to crawl back inside the tent and sleep.  He had a job to do.

Consuela took them to the east part of the village to talk to the residents there and then drove them back to the Dominguez residence.

The inside of their home looked more like a house Yuuri would expect to see in America than in middle of the Peruvian rainforest.  The imported granite countertops and stainless steel sink in the kitchen spoke of money and privilege, so at odds with what most of the people who lived here had in their daily lives.  The house also had electricity provided by the solar panels that lined the roof and there were ceiling fans in every room.  They decided to split up, Viktor taking the kitchen and living areas downstairs and Yuuri going upstairs to inspect the bedrooms and the bathrooms.  Consuela waited outside in the Jeep out of respect for the dead.

Remarkably, Yuuri found no evidence of rodents in any of the bedrooms.  He didn’t find a single dropping or slightly nibbled surface, and not even his UV flashlight showed any traces of rodent urine.  He did find suitcases in one of the closets in the master bedroom with recent luggage tags still attached to them, showing that the couple taken a trip a couple of months ago to Chile.  Yuuri made note of this and moved on to the bathrooms, all of which were as clean as the bedrooms. 

He met Viktor downstairs in the living room, which also showed no signs of rodent activity.  The kitchen, including the pantry, was immaculate.  

Something wasn’t right.

Maybe rodents had never gotten into the house.  Maybe they had encountered rodent droppings in the garden and gotten sick that way.  It was certainly possible.  They were setting traps outside the home this evening so they could gather samples from the local rodent population.

Yuuri’s heart began to race, partly in fear and partly in excitement.  It was awful that people had died and that the real cause may have gone undetected, but the opportunity to find and track a virus flying low under the radar was what people in his profession lived for.  And Yuuri was bound and determined to stop this one before it claimed anyone else.

They set up a covered workstation behind the house for use in the morning.  As night fell, they set out metal live capture traps, baited with peanut butter.  Hopefully they’d have something to look at in the morning.

* * *

 

An hour before dawn, Consuela picked them up and drove them over to Eduardo’s house.  They put on their personal protective gear, slipping Tyvek suits on over their clothes, two pairs of nitrile gloves, clear faceshields, and surgical masks.  Viktor dressed first while Yuuri watched, making sure he hadn’t missed anything.  Then Viktor watched Yuuri dress.  Once they were done, they headed out to pick up the traps.

By the time the sun was up, Yuuri and Viktor had picked up all the baited traps they’d set the night before.  Forty-nine of the sixty traps had captures.  They would need to move quickly to process them all.

They set the full traps underneath the table and began processing them. 

Yuuri opened the first trap and upended it so the rodent inside slid out and into a large bowl.  He recorded what kind it was and where it had been found on his paperwork and labeled the falcon tube that would hold the blood sample.  Then he quickly picked the rodent up with a set of calipers, grasped it firmly, and slid a small capillary tube into the eye socket and around the eye, breaking the tiny blood vessels.

“Gomen'nasai,” Yuuri whispered softly.

The blood went right down into the falcon tube.  When the bleeding stopped, Yuuri dropped the capillary tube in the biohazard trash and placed the rodent in a sealed container filled with CO2.  It was the most merciful death he could give it.  He sealed the falcon tube with parafilm and nestled it in the ice packs in the cold box. 

They worked quickly and silently, emptying the traps and filling the falcon tubes.  When all the rodents had been processed, they put the tubes in ziplock bags and packed them in more ice in the cold box, sealed it up, and set it to the side.  Viktor took the box of rodents to be disposed of and Yuuri began spraying disinfectant on everything, sterilizing their workplace.  He finished as Viktor returned and he sprayed and wiped down the box.

Afterwards, he sprayed Viktor down, making sure he thoroughly covered him.  Then Viktor did the same for him.  They stripped off their protective gear and put them into an airtight bag, sprayed disinfectant on it, then put it inside another bag and repeated the process. 

By the time they were finished, the sun was high over the horizon.  It was almost noon.  They were getting ready to head to the airstrip to take the samples to be flown to Lima for processing when Viktor’s satellite phone rang.  It was Doctor Andrade from the Ministry of Health.

During the night, a young boy had died in the village from severe respiratory distress.  They had seen the boy two days ago and he’d been fine, running around and playing with his siblings, apparently healthy. 

This morning, another young child had been taken to the clinic with breathing difficulties.  He’d been sick for a few days, but took a turn for the worse this morning.  He died in the clinic in one of the examination rooms.  He lived in the part of the village Yuuri and Viktor hadn’t made it to yet.

The doctor had samples of their blood and wanted to make sure it got out right away.  Viktor said they could pick up the samples and include them in what they were transporting to Lima.

Yuuri bit his lip, deep in thought.  The two children who had just died were on opposite sides of the village.  They had already examined the home of one of them and found that there was no sign of rodent activity.  However, they had one thing in common: they had seen Eduardo a few days before he died.  He had given schoolbooks to all the children in the village.

The pieces were finally beginning to fall into place.  Rodent droppings weren’t the source of the virus.  Corazón was.

Yuuri remembered the tags from Chile on the luggage in the closet.  Andes hantavirus was in Chile and it was the only known hantavirus that could spread person-to-person. Ynez has said that Eduardo and Corazón were trying to have a baby, and if Corazón had the virus when they were intimate, she could have easily given it to her husband.  Corazón must have given the virus to her niece and her father when they visited her.  After her death, Eduardo delivered the schoolbooks to the children in the village.  If he had been actively shedding virus when he dropped them off… 

If this was what they were dealing with, then there might be more people who were already infected.  A lot more people.  They needed to get on top of this before it spread any further.

They had to act now.

“Viktor,” Yuuri said quickly, “call the Ministry of Health back and have them quarantine Añoranza right now!  I think we’re dealing with Andes hantavirus-”

“That’s not endemic to this area,” Viktor started, then stopped, his eyes going wide.  “But they went to Chile-”

“And I think Corazón got it there, gave it to Eduardo-”

“And he gave it to the children,” Viktor finished.  He nodded grimly and made the call.

Yuuri listened as Viktor asked for the quarantine he’d recommended, at least a month’s worth of food and supplies to take care of everyone in Añoranza, and to call in Doctors Without Borders to assist Doctor Cavazos.

Doctor Andrade must have balked at the request, because Viktor became angry.  He didn’t yell, he became cold as ice, which was even more frightening and effective.

“I don’t care who you have to talk to,” Viktor said in sharp, clipped tones, “you need to make it happen.  I am well aware of the fact that it costs money.  If that’s the only thing you’re worried about, then let me put it in those terms for you: if you stop it now while it’s small, you not only save money in the long run, but you save lives, which is my concern.  You asked us here to help you control the situation.  If you want to control it, declare a quarantine and get enough supplies to take care of everyone here.  If you don’t, I guarantee that someone _will_ run the quarantine and take this virus to another village, or maybe get on a plane and take it to a major city.  You have the opportunity to stop that from happening right now.  So, find the money to make it happen or find someone that will.”

Viktor was silent for a couple of minutes, then said in that quiet, cold tone:

“I see.  Do I have to get on Twitter and tell the world what’s going on here?”

Yuuri’s eyes widened in shock and surprise.  Viktor looked at him and winked.  It was a hollow threat: their phones were useless here.  Only the satellite phone worked.  But Doctor Andrade didn’t know that.

Yuuri couldn’t help but smile.

In the end, Viktor got what he asked for. 

* * *

 

Two days after Viktor convinced the Ministry to set up a quarantine and to call in Doctors Without Borders for help, a team of three doctors flew in.  A month’s worth of supplies were airlifted in as well, dropped by military planes near the airstrip.  Blockades were set up on the roads by the military so no one could enter or leave. 

Yuuri watched the doctors as they worked in the common gathering area, examining the people of the village.

About half of Añoranza was here, and all of them had been given surgical masks.  The results had come in from the lab about the rodents and only fifteen percent of the samples they had collected tested positive for hantavirus.  Yuuri knew it should be at least double that amount if this was rodent-borne. 

Under the grass roof, Yuuri caught a glimpse of bleached-blonde hair and a familiar purple headband.  It would be good to see Mari again.

* * *

 

Yuuri and Viktor took their plates of chicken, potatoes, and corn and sat down opposite Mari at the table set up outside the Doctors Without Borders camp.

“Did you have to fly in with that asshole pilot?” Mari said in way of greeting as they sat down.  “I swear he’s the worst pilot ever.  He wouldn’t even help us unload anything, just stood there and smoked.”  She shook her head and sighed.  “I haven’t had a cigarette in ten years and after the flight, I was ready to kick his ass and take one from him.”

“You’ve almost filled up your earlobes,” Yuuri said.  Mari smiled and touched her right ear, her fingertip tracing over the row of tiny hoops in her ear.

“Yeah, pretty soon I’m going to have to start piercing the cartilage,” she replied.  She looked at Viktor and said, “I get a new piercing every time I volunteer with Doctors Without Borders.”

“Ooh,” Viktor said, fascinated.  Yuuri listened to Mari and Viktor talk over dinner, content to fade into the background.  He would have his chance to talk to his sister later.

Mari and Viktor hit it off.  Viktor liked her off-the-cuff comments and she liked hearing about his exploits in Africa.  She had been there herself and cackled when he told her about the goat that wanted to eat his hair. 

“I had one try to eat my paperwork once,” she said.  “We ate it for dinner.”

Several times during their meal, Yuuri noticed that she was watching the two of them very carefully out of the corner of her eye.  When he finally caught her, she quickly looked down, trying to hide a smirk. 

“How long have you two been together?” Mari asked in Japanese when Viktor excused himself from the table.

“We’re not,” Yuuri replied.  Yes, Viktor was attractive and kind and smart and everything he ever could want in as partner, but Viktor was his supervisor.  He knew better than to sleep with someone he worked with.  And it would definitely be the mother of all bad ideas to sleep with his boss. 

“Why not?” Mari asked, drumming her fingers on the table.  “He’s obviously interested in you, and I know your weakness for pretty men…”

“He’s my supervisor!” Yuuri hissed.  He was certain he was blushing, proof of what Mari had said.  Viktor was certainly pretty.  Very pretty.  Unfairly pretty-

“So?!” Mari laughed.  “He understands your passion, Yuuri!  He gets what drives you- it drives him, too!  I can’t think of a better person to pick for a partner.” 

Yuuri could feel the heat rising to his face.  Mari had always been able to see right through him.

“He understands what you do and why you do it, unlike your asshole ex,” Mari said.  “He didn’t understand you at all, Yuuri.  Now Viktor, on the other hand, he not only understands what motivates you, but he only has eyes for you.”

“Sure he does,” Yuuri said sarcastically.  “That’s why he flirts with our translator.”

Mari looked over her shoulder at Consuela, where she was actively engaged in a conversation with Pierre, one of the other doctors on Mari’s team.  Mari snorted and turned around, shaking her head and trying not to laugh.

“Oh, Yuuri,” Mari laughed, “she’s young, attractive, and friendly.  Viktor’s friendly, too.  Are you sure they were flirting and not just being nice to one another?  Are they still flirting with one another?” Mari asked. 

“Well, no, not too much,” Yuuri admitted.  He would have said more, but Viktor came into view, headed back to their table with three bottles of cold soda.   Viktor sat down by Yuuri and handed them each a bottle.  Mari thanked him in English, then switched back to Japanese.

“Do you think he’s flirting with me now, just because he brought me a drink?” Mari asked.  “Because if that’s the case, then he’s flirting with you too.  And he sat down beside you, not me, the new arrival.  Another point in your favor, Yuuri.”

Viktor looked back and forth between them, not following a word of the softly spoken Japanese.

“You know,” Mari continued, “you’re really good at your job.  You can see the tiniest clues and figure out what’s going on.  But you can’t turn that focus on your own life.  You can’t see what’s right in front of you.”

Yuuri really hoped Mari was done, but when she got up to head to her tent, she called over her shoulder, “It’d be an awful waste for you _not_ to sleep with him, Yuuri.”

Yuuri only shrank further into himself as Mari walked away, her throaty chuckle trailing off into the darkness.

“What was that all about?” Viktor asked.                                                                              

“She just wants me to be happy,” Yuuri said and left it at that.

But he couldn’t help but look at Viktor and wonder.  Yes, the physical would be nice, so nice, but what if he wanted something more?

* * *

 

Almost three weeks later, Yuuri looked out the window at the clouds and the ocean below.  They had managed to trace the source of the hantavirus to Eduardo and Corazón’s ill-fated trip to the Chilean Andes.  They had made it through the incubation period for subsequent new cases and had come up clean. All of the people who had gotten sick had either recovered, been transferred to better facilities, or had perished.  Twelve people in the tiny village of Añoranza had died, but they had stopped the spread among those in this village and kept it from spreading to other villages in the rainforest.

He should count it as a success, but he still wished they had been able to do more, save others. 

He’d had a birthday while they were there.  Mari was the one who remembered and managed to get someone to make him a small pastry to celebrate.  He’d been so busy that he almost forgotten. 

Beside him, Viktor shifted and sighed in his sleep, his head coming to rest on Yuuri’s shoulder.  They had worked well together, and Yuuri felt even closer to Viktor now than he had before.  But it was an attraction that he couldn’t allow.  Yes, Viktor was everything he could have ever wanted or even known to ask for in a partner, but he was also his supervisor.  And, despite what Mari said, he knew it was a bad idea. 

Yuuri looked down at Viktor’s hair against his jacket.  It looked so soft, like spun moonlight.  How would it feel to touch it?  He could do it right now, just reach out and run his fingertips over it.  No one would ever know.  He picked up his hand to do so, but pulled back at the last second.  No, this was an intrusion he could not allow. 

Yuuri knew how to kill desire.  He knew how to focus so intently on his work that nothing else mattered.  Viktor could be his supervisor and even his friend, but nothing more.  For both of their sakes, he had to make sure this never happened, even though he wanted it more than he had wanted anything in quite some time.  It was easy to be around Viktor, so easy, and the temptation to let himself fall was great.  He had been lonely for so long... 

But it wasn’t even that.  Viktor wasn’t someone to warm his bed for a while and then move on.  What Yuuri wanted, what he craved, was permanence.  He wanted a place where he fit.  And he wanted to fit Viktor into his life and wanted Viktor to fit him into his. 

Yuuri looked out the window again at the clouds as they glided over them. 

He would have to do something about this before it drove him mad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **When you hear hoofbeats, think horses, not zebras.** \- Dr. Theodore Woodward told this to his medical students in the 1940's as a warning to them about exotic medical diagnoses when a more commonplace illness is more likely. If you have a cough, it's more likely that you caught a cold and don't have cancer.
> 
> **¡Eso es un montón de cosas!** \- That's a lot of stuff!
> 
> **¡Hola!** \- Hello!
> 
> **Dios mío** \- My God
> 
> **brujería** \- witchcraft
> 
> **Gomen'nasai** \- I'm sorry.
> 
> A couple of the names in this story were chosen specifically for their meanings in Spanish. They are:
> 
> **Corazón** \- heart 
> 
> **Eduardo** \- wealthy guardian 
> 
> **Añoranza** \- yearning (Yuuri's yearning for Viktor, Viktor's yearning for Yuuri, and Corazón and duardo's yearing for a child)
> 
> When getting blood samples from rodents, it is unfortunately necessary to collect the sample while they are still alive. Rodents suspected of bearing hantavirus are killed to prevent the spread.
> 
> [Hantavirus](https://www.cdc.gov/hantavirus/index.html) is a virus spread to humans through contact with rodent droppings. As of this writing, the only known hantavirus that can also spread by person-to-person transmission is [Andes hantavirus](https://www.cdc.gov/hantavirus/resources/andes-virus.html). For purposes of this story, I have made it a little easier to spread (Eduardo giving it to some of the children in the village). Usually, it is spread through intimate contact. 
> 
> Come say hola on [Tumblr...](http://paintingwithwords.tumblr.com)


	8. Love Comes Quickly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I was thinking we need to relax a little,” Viktor said. “Just this week, I’ve had a migraine and you had issues with anxiety. I think we both might be a little overstressed and need to take a break. So tonight, no working. Don’t even think of taking your laptop out.”
> 
> Yuuri was beginning to get the impression that something else was going on here. If he didn’t know better, he would think that Viktor was trying to seduce him. The nice meal, the casual yet elegant clothes, the movie ready to start as soon as they sat down-
> 
> Yuuri bit his lip. _Was_ Viktor trying to seduce him? Or was he reading his own desires into Viktor’s actions? If only he knew for sure…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of this may be NSFW.

Yuuri looked out the window at the falling snow and smiled.  Both Phichit and Chris were complaining about the cold snap, but Yuuri was glad to be back in Paris and out of the sweltering heat of the Peruvian rainforest. 

The outbreak they had been sent to investigate had been identified as Andes hantavirus and steps had been taken to control its spread.  Mari and the rest of the Doctors Without Borders team were still there, but she expected that they would be leaving within the week.  Once they got everything under control, there had been no new cases past the incubation period, for which everyone was grateful. 

Outside his office, Yuuri could hear Viktor and Chris talking.  Yuuri took a sip of his coffee and sighed.  At least one thing had been resolved.  But what was he supposed to do about the fact that he was attracted to his supervisor?

Yuuri knew that he had to deal with this.  It would be easiest and wisest to do everything he could to kill his feelings for Viktor.  He’d done it before, even though it wasn’t easy.  But it would make for a better work environment, of that he was certain.  Yuuri remembered what Celestino had said to him about workplace romances: never stick your pen in office ink.  Never mind how many there had been at the CDC: it was almost like his former workplace had been a breeding ground for relationships.  But Yuuri had stuck to Celestino’s advice and kept his coworkers out of his bedroom.

But what Mari said kept coming back to him, usually in the small hours of the morning when he found it impossible to sleep.  Who better to sleep with than someone who understood your passions and what motivated you?

Yuuri felt closer to Viktor than he’d ever felt to anyone before.  It was easy to work with Viktor, to talk to Viktor, to just be around Viktor.  Hell, he spent more evenings in Viktor’s apartment than he spent in his own!  They made dinner together, walked his dog together, talked about all sorts of things…

Viktor was everything he could ever have hoped or asked for in a partner: he was intelligent, driven, motivated, kind and considerate, funny, and attractive.  He shared Yuuri’s interests, something that had been a problem in the past.  When Viktor wasn’t around, Yuuri missed him.  When he saw something, he wondered what Viktor would think about it.  But did Viktor feel the same way?  All he knew was that he had grown accustomed to being around Viktor, to having Viktor in his life.

A knock at his door brought Yuuri’s attention back to the present.  He looked up, hoping to see Viktor there, but Phichit stood in the doorway instead.

“Is your work so interesting that you’ve resorted to staring out the window and watching the snow fall?” Phichit teased.  Yuuri gave him a rueful smile.  He’d been caught.

“You looked like you were a million miles away,” Phichit said as he walked into Yuuri’s office. 

“What were you thinking about?  And don’t try to tell me you were actually working.  I know you better than that.”

“Oh, it was nothing,” Yuuri said, looking back down at his laptop.  He was dismayed to find that the screensaver had come on.  Had he been sitting there staring out the window that long?

“Bullshit,” Phichit said.  “You’ve been off since you got back last week.”  Phichit’s face took on a serious expression.  “Did something happen while you were in Peru?”

“No, no,” Yuuri said quickly, perhaps a little too quickly.  “I’ve just got a lot on my mind, that’s all.”

“Well, how about we get out of here for a bit, go have lunch?” Phichit suggested.  “Sometimes a change of scenery can help give you a new perspective.”

“Are you sure?  It’s still snowing out there and I know how much you hate the cold…”

“Fuck the snow,” Phichit said.  “I’ve dealt with worse.  Remember that damn blizzard that hit finals week?  And they didn’t cancel or reschedule any of them?”

Yuuri smiled at the memory.  They’d trudged through what seemed like mountains of snow to take finals.  Phichit must have had on every hat and scarf he owned. 

“We dealt with that crap and we survived.”  Phichit looked out the window and scowled at the snow. 

“Compared to that, this ain’t shit.  So, put on your coat and go tell Viktor I’m kidnapping you for lunch.”

Yuuri closed his laptop and did as he was told.  There was no stopping Phichit when he got going.

* * *

 

“So, are you going to tell me what’s really bothering you?” Phichit asked as he picked up one of Yuuri’s fries and shoved it in his mouth.

Yuuri shot a look at Phichit.  He couldn’t believe that Phichit had dragged him out in the cold and the snow and taken him to McDonald’s, of all places, just to ask him what was bothering him. 

“Did you sleep with Viktor while you were there?”

Yuuri almost choked on his fries.  He felt the heat rising to his cheeks and took a quick sip of his drink to help wash it down.

“Oh my God, Phichit,” Yuuri gasped when he could talk again, “you’ve got to warn someone before you say something like that!  You should be glad I wasn’t taking a drink or you’d be wearing it right now.”

Phichit laughed and stole more of Yuuri’s fries off his tray.

"You’re not answering my question.  Did the two of you sleep together?  Did you make hot love in the hot jungle?”

“Shut up, Phichit,” Yuuri hissed.  While it might be funny to Phichit, it was not funny to him, not at all.  “Not that’s it’s any of your business, but no, we did not do anything while we were abroad,” Yuuri said.  “We had a job to do and we did it.  That’s all.”

“And is _that_ the problem?” Phichit asked.  Yuuri shot him a look.  Sometimes Phichit was scarily perceptive.

Yuuri looked back down at his tray.  He did not want to have this discussion in public, least of all in a McDonald’s.

“Ah, I see that it is.”  Phichit stole another fry off Yuuri’s tray.  “Were you too busy to squeeze in a little lovin’?”

“We’re not sleeping together, Phichit,” Yuuri said.  “He’s my supervisor.  It would be a really bad idea to have a relationship of that nature with him.”

“You make it sound so clinical,” Phichit said, frowning.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.  I just figured you two were and just keeping it quiet in the office to maintain a professional appearance, you know?  I mean, you two are always together.  If I need to find you, I look for Viktor.  If I need to find Viktor, I look for you.  You two are close, very close.  I just figured you’d taken it to the next level.”

Yuuri said nothing.  He didn’t want to look up from his tray.  God, how he wished what Phichit thought was true.  But it was foolish to want those things, or to think that Viktor wanted them, too.  Suddenly, Yuuri felt very lonely, lonelier than he’d felt since he moved to Paris.

Then Phichit’s hand was on his.  He looked up to see Phichit looking at him with concern in his eyes.

“Yuuri,” Phichit murmured, “I’ve known you for how many years now?  And I know when something’s bothering you.  It’s obvious to me how you feel about Viktor.  It’s not healthy for you to just keep it all bottled up inside.  You should tell him-”

“NO!” Yuuri yelped, startling everyone around them with his sudden outburst.  He felt so many eyes on him, looking at him, judging him-

Yuuri’s breath caught in his throat.  He could feel his heart beginning to race as tunnel vision took over.  _Oh God, not now-_

“Yuuri.”  Phichit’s voice across from him.  He looked up to see Phichit sliding his bottle of water next to his hand.

“Close your eyes and take a deep breath.  In for three, hold for three, then out for four.  Do that for me, okay?  I’ll even do it with you.  Do that a few times, then take a drink.”

Yuuri nodded, not wanting to let the anxiety get the upper hand, not here in a crowded fast food restaurant.  They sat together in the booth for several long minutes, just breathing, until finally the anxiety let him go.

“Thank you,” Yuuri whispered shakily.  He hated being at the mercy of his anxiety, hated not knowing when and where it would choose to strike. 

“Let’s get back to the office,” Phichit suggested.  Yuuri nodded, dumping the contents of his tray in the trash and letting Phichit lead the way.  It was only a few blocks, but in the aftermath of an anxiety attack, it might as well be a thousand miles. 

When they got back, Viktor and Chris were deep in conversation in the lab, but fell silent as they badged in.  Yuuri felt his heart sink: Viktor looked pale and drawn, apparently still feeling the aftereffects of the migraine that had kept him home the day before.  He’d missed Viktor so much yesterday, but he probably should have stayed home today as well to finish recovering.

Viktor and Chris turned to look at them when they came in, but Yuuri just wanted to hide.  He felt awful, tired and drained, and he was afraid that he looked as bad as he felt.

Viktor’s smile faded from his face as soon as he got a good look at him. Yuuri wrapped his arms around himself and ducked into his office as Phichit stepped in front of Viktor, who was making his way towards them, effectively blocking him.

“Yuuri’s not feeling well,” Phichit said.  “I think he needs to go home.”

But Viktor wasn’t let him get away that easily.

“Let’s take your temperature before you go,” he said gently. “I want to make sure you’re not coming down with anything.”  It was a logical and necessary precaution, given that they had just returned from an area with an active hantavirus epidemic.  He’d taken his temperature this morning, like he had every day since they’d come back home, and it had been normal.

Yuuri merely nodded and took a seat in his office.  Very quickly, Viktor was gliding into the room, thermometer in hand, a worried look on his pale face.  He took a seat next to Yuuri and held out the thermometer.

“Open up,” he said gently.  Yuuri obeyed, even though he knew it would be fine.  This was anxiety, not a virus.  If only he could get over anxiety the same way he could get over a communicable disease. 

Yuuri didn’t look up, but Viktor stayed by his side. 

“Are you feeling unwell?  Warm or feverish?”

Yuuri shook his head.  He wanted to go home, crawl into his bed, and sleep.  He always felt so empty and tired after an attack.

“Is this like what happened in Peru?” Viktor asked softly.  Yuuri closed his eyes and nodded, huffing out a breath through his nose. 

The thermometer beeped and Viktor read the results and sighed in relief.

“It’s normal,” Viktor said quietly.  “Why don’t you take the rest of the day off, go home and get some sleep?  I’ll get you a taxi.”

Yuuri wanted to protest, to tell Viktor that he could get home on his own, that he’d dealt with worse without any help before and been just fine.  But it was nice to have someone who wanted to take care of him.  He nodded and Viktor reached out and gently patted his knee, then left the room to get his phone and call Yuuri a ride home.

* * *

 

Everyone acted completely normal when Yuuri came in the next day.  He caught Phichit’s eye as he headed to his office.  Phichit gave him a slight nod of the head, letting him know without words that he’d taken care of everything.  He’d have to do something nice for Phichit to thank him later.

No one bothered him for the first few hours and he enjoyed the peace.  But at the same time, he missed Viktor’s presence.  About an hour before lunch, Phichit came in. 

“I’m sorry about yesterday,” he said quietly.  “You want to try lunch again sometime, or maybe dinner?”

“I can’t go to lunch today,” Yuuri said.  “I’m a little behind right now.  But dinner would be nice.  And not McDonald’s this time.”

Phichit laughed.  “Deal.  When do you want to come over for dinner?  I’ll cook.  I’ll even make that fusion of pad thai and ramen that we used to make when we were in school.”

Yuuri looked up from his computer and smiled.  He’d fight someone for a bowl of Phichit’s pad thai ramen.

“How about tonight?”

* * *

 

After dinner, Phichit suggested they play a few rounds on his PS4.  When they were in the middle of a pitched battle, Phichit brought up the subject matter from the day before.

“I think you should talk to Viktor about how you feel,” Phichit said casually, as thought they were talking about the weather. 

Yuuri frowned.  He should have known that Phichit wasn’t going to leave this alone.

“Look, Yuuri, it’s obvious how you feel about Viktor,” Phichit said as he swung his sword at another orc.  “To everyone.  Viktor walks into the room and you light up like a Christmas tree.  You need to do something.  Talk to him about it or it’s going to drive all of us crazy.”

Yuuri said nothing, preferring to swing at an orc with more ferocity than necessary.  He missed.

“And if you’re not going to do something about your feelings because you’re afraid of screwing up stuff at work, then maybe you should go out and find a lover, even if it’s only for a night.  You seriously need to blow off some steam.”

Yuuri looked at Phichit, the controller in his hands all but forgotten. 

“Yuuri, you’re in Paris.  There’s a lot of pretty dick here.  A _lot_.  Trust me on this one.  Have I ever led you astray before?  You need to go out and get some of it.”

On the screen, Yuuri’s character took a hit from an orc, gurgled, and died. 

Phichit put his controller down on the coffee table and looked at Yuuri. 

“You need to do something before this longing tears you apart,” he said. 

Yuuri knew Phichit was right, but it didn’t mean he was comfortable with it.  Couldn’t he just ignore it, let it fade away, wither, and die?  There was no guarantee he would get to stay on once the current American and French administrations were out of power.  His stay here was only temporary.  Yes, it was guaranteed for another three years, but after that?  What if they didn’t want to keep him on?  What if he had to move again?  Would it be fair to enter into a relationship with someone who was well-established here, who had a career that he could count on for a lifetime, when all he could offer him was fleeting, if he even wanted it at all? 

He dropped the controller in his lap and leaned back into the couch. 

“I’ll think about it,” Yuuri said.

“Good,” Phichit replied.  “You could even go out with Chris and I one night if you want.  Now, you ready to get your ass kicked?”  He picked up his controller and grinned at Yuuri.  Yuuri smirked and picked his back up.

“Whatever,” he said as he queued up a new game.  “I’m gonna wipe the room with you.”

* * *

 

Yuuri lay awake in his bed in the small hours of the morning, staring up at the ceiling and wondering what to do.  Should he follow Phichit’s advice and talk to Viktor?  If Viktor didn’t feel the same way, wouldn’t that strain their working relationship?  That was something he really didn’t want to screw up.  They worked so well together, like the proverbial well-oiled machine.  And couldn’t that get him fired?  Telling your boss that you found him desirable, fantasized about him, imagined what it would be like to sleep with him…  Certainly that would count as some kind of harassment, wouldn’t it?  And being let go from two positions in a row, from two of the top organizations in the world?  His career would never recover, of that he was certain.

But it was driving him crazy.  Phichit said that everyone in the office knew how he felt, and that had to be bad.  He didn’t need to let his inability to handle his sexual frustration cause tension in the workplace. 

Maybe Phichit was right: maybe he just needed to go out and get laid.  It had been one hell of a dry spell and he could do with some company, even if it was just for one night.  Admittedly, the idea of a one-night-stand didn’t sit too well with Yuuri, but maybe Phichit was right and he just needed to get this out of his system. 

Yuuri rolled over and sighed into his pillow.  He’d go out this weekend.  But he didn’t want to go with Phichit and Chris: he’d just feel like the proverbial third wheel.  He’d check out the fabled Parisian bar scene on his own and see what it had to offer.  Hopefully, he could alleviate some of his own tensions and the tensions within the office at the same time.

* * *

 

Late Friday afternoon, Viktor stuck his head inside Yuuri’s office.  It was a fairly normal occurrence, but this time, it felt… different, somehow.  Yuuri figured it was just his own nerves getting the best of him.

“Do you have plans tonight?” Viktor asked.  A lock of his pale blond hair fell over his eyes and he smoothed it back with one hand.  Yuuri wondered how it would feel to push it back out of his face, if was as soft as it looked…

“I was going to continue working on the data from Añoranza at home,” Yuuri said.  He’d planned on going out, but honestly, he’d rather do just about anything else. 

“Ah,” Viktor said.  And then: “Do you want to come over?  I know the weather’s awful, but Makkachin says she really misses you.”

Yuuri smirked at Viktor over his laptop. 

“I highly doubt she told you that, but I can come by.  What time?”

“Well, I need to make dinner,” Viktor said, brightening.  “It’s not right to ask you to come over in this awful weather and not feed you.  So, how about seven?  Is that good for you?”

“Of course,” Yuuri answered.  “Seven would be fine.  And you don’t need to feed me.  I can grab something on the way over.”

“Nonsense,” Viktor countered.  “I’ll make dinner.  It’ll be better than last time, you’ll see.”

“Okay, seven it is then,” Yuuri replied.  Dinner last time had been very good, but there had been a little too much cheese for his tastes.  He liked cheese, but it didn’t like him.

“Great!” Viktor said.  “See you then!”

Yuuri watched him go and sighed to himself.  Going over to Viktor’s wasn’t going to do anything about relieving his tensions.  If anything, it’d probably make them worse.  But he’d rather be parked on Viktor’s couch working on the raw data they’d collected than sitting at a bar, looking for someone to take home.  Besides, he could always go out on Saturday instead.  The snow was supposed to taper off by then, and he was sure that would mean more people at the bar.  More people at the bar meant more chances of taking someone home, and if he took someone home, then maybe he’d quit wishing he could take Viktor to bed. 

* * *

 

Makkachin trotted up to him and nuzzled his hands as soon as he arrived at Viktor’s apartment.  Yuuri shed his coat, hat, and gloves and followed Viktor into the kitchen, enjoying the heavenly aroma.  On the counter was Viktor’s slow cooker, filled with hunks of beef, chopped carrots, mushrooms, and a rich burgundy sauce. 

Yuuri lifted an eyebrow, but said nothing.  Viktor had made beef bourguignon for him before and he knew it took hours to cook.  There was no way Viktor had started this meal when he got home.  He must have set it up this morning when he left for work. 

Yuuri set his messenger bag down beside the couch and started to get set up.  He noticed the television was on and that a movie was queued up on one of the streaming services.  That was odd.  Occasionally they’d watched a movie, but usually it happened when they were both too fried to concentrate on work any longer and needed a break.  Viktor never had one ready to start when he arrived.

He looked back into the kitchen and took in Viktor’s clothing.  Usually Viktor had on whatever he’d worn to work or he’d changed into an old t-shirt and sweats.  Tonight he had on a pair of jeans and a dove grey causal button-down shirt that complemented his hair.  Yuuri smiled.  The look suited Viktor, but then again, there probably wasn’t a thing on earth that Viktor could wear that would make him look bad.

Yuuri watched Viktor spoon out the beef, vegetables, and sauce on top of egg noodles.  The timer on Viktor’s phone went off and he pulled a tray with thick slices of baguettes out of the oven, which he set on the edges of their plates.

“Is wine okay?  I could make tea or coffee if you prefer.”

“No, wine is good, thank you,” Yuuri answered.  He couldn’t take his eyes off of the cuffs of Viktor’s shirt, rolled halfway up his arms.  Even his hands and forearms looked good.

Oh God, he had it _bad_.

“I was thinking we need to relax a little,” Viktor said.  “Just this week, I’ve had a migraine and you had issues with anxiety.  I think we both might be a little overstressed and need to take a break.  So tonight, no working.  Don’t even think of taking your laptop out.”

Yuuri was beginning to get the impression that something else was going on here. If he didn’t know better, he would think that Viktor was trying to seduce him.  The nice meal, the casual yet elegant clothes, the movie ready to start as soon as they sat down-

“So,” Viktor said with a smile, “how does dinner and a movie sound?”Yuuri bit his lip.  _Was_ Viktor trying to seduce him?  Or was he reading his own desires into Viktor’s actions?  If only he knew for sure…

“That’s fine,” Yuuri said.  “Perfect, in fact.”

Viktor smiled, the heart-shaped smile that Yuuri found so endearing and that always made him melt. 

“Good!  Now, go sit on the couch and let’s eat.”

* * *

 

They ate dinner while they watched the movie, one that Viktor said he’d seen before but thought Yuuri would enjoy.  Dinner had been wonderful, as always, and when they were done eating, they set their plates on the coffee table and settled back on the couch. 

Halfway through the movie, Yuuri began to feel a little nervous.  They’d done this before, but this time, it felt different.  Was it because Yuuri had finally acknowledged his feelings for Viktor, if only to himself and his best friend?  No, it wasn’t just him: Viktor seemed to be feeling it, too.  To Yuuri’s clinically trained eye, Viktor appeared nervous and on edge, as tense as a wire strung too tightly.

Yuuri looked at Viktor, his pale face lit up by the weak light of the television.  His hair had fallen in his face again and Yuuri had to resist the urge to reach out and brush it away.  Viktor was very pointedly not looking at him and he was breathing a little too fast.  Yuuri thought he could see the faint flutter of Viktor’s pulse in his throat.  And… was Viktor trembling, just a little?

Was this a date?  Viktor had asked him over and made a wonderful meal for him, told him they weren’t allowed to do any work, and now they were sitting next to each other on the couch watching a movie.  And Viktor was nervous, trembling next to him.  Was Viktor trying to figure out how to make the first move?

Had he been trying to figure it out for some time?

Yuuri licked his lips.  He knew the signs and signals: he’d sent them enough times himself to someone he was interested in.  He just hoped he was reading Viktor right.  If he was, then he didn’t need to worry about his tensions any more.  If not, well, he could brush it off, act like it was a mistake, and move on.

A part of his brain was screaming that this was lunacy, madness, and begging him not to do it.  The other part was telling him to shut the fuck up, stop thinking, and act.

Yuuri looked down and saw that Viktor’s hand was next to his on the couch.  They were barely a few millimeters apart, almost touching.  He swallowed down his nerves and let his hand slide a little on the couch, so that their fingers were touching. 

The connection between them was electric.  It was as if a spell had been broken, the ice that was freezing them apart shattered.

Yuuri felt Viktor’s finger brush against his.  It was just the slightest movement, not quite casual but enquiring, almost as if Viktor was testing the waters.  Yuuri took a deep breath and moved his finger ever so slightly, returning the caress with one of his own.

It wasn’t the first time they’d touched one another.  They worked together and touched one another all the time, shared that small tent in the middle of the Peruvian rainforest- he’d even slept next to him and saw him naked and wet, straight out of the shower, looking like some kind of god.  But this, this was different.

He knew Viktor didn’t have a lover and that Viktor preferred men… And then Viktor’s hand was sliding up and over his, making the hairs on the back of his hand and neck stand up.

Yuuri inhaled and turned his hand over, so that it was palm up underneath Viktor’s.  He laced his fingers in between Viktor’s and turned to look at him-

He wasn’t sure which of them moved first.  Maybe they moved to close the gap between them at the same time. The brush of Viktor’s soft lips against his was tentative, barely there, like he was asking permission.  Yuuri leaned forward, his other hand coming to rest on Viktor’s thigh.  Viktor leaned back on the couch and pulled Yuuri down on top of him, his hands tangling in Yuuri’s hair.  Yuuri sighed when he felt Viktor’s lips part underneath his and moaned into the kiss. 

Viktor whimpered into his mouth, sending a surge through Yuuri’s body straight to his groin.  He moved his hands over Viktor’s chest, sliding his fingers over the soft material of his shirt and the hard muscles underneath. Yuuri thought he felt Viktor’s stomach quiver and let his hand drift further down, snaking underneath his shirt.  Viktor gasped and gave a little laugh.  Yuuri pulled away to look down at Viktor’s half open eyes.  His pupils were wide in his blue eyes and Yuuri clearly read the invitation there.  Viktor reached up and traced the pad of his thumb over Yuuri’s lower lip.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” Viktor said, gazing up at Yuuri.  Yuuri moved to take Viktor’s thumb into his mouth and licked the sensitive pad, making Viktor shiver.

“You’ve been driving me crazy,” Yuuri whispered and leaned down to nip at Viktor’s neck.  Viktor’s hands moved down and under his sweater, urging him to take it off.  Yuuri sat up and pulled it over his head and let it fall to the floor.  Viktor was watching him appreciatively and he thought about making a show of taking off his t-shirt as well, but Viktor smirked, grabbed the front of his shirt, and pulled him back down.

When they were pressed next to one another, bare flesh on bare flesh, Viktor pulled back and looked into Yuuri’s eyes.  He looked almost afraid.

“You should know,” Viktor haltingly whispered, “I don’t do one-times.  If we do this, I don’t want to ever let you go.  Do you understand?”

Yuuri stroked Viktor’s cheek and pressed their foreheads together.  How long had they both wanted the same thing?  Tenderly, he kissed Viktor and looked into his eyes. 

“Yes,” he whispered, “I do understand. I don’t do the casual thing either.  I don’t want a friend with benefits.  I want a lover, a long-term lover.  And I want that lover to be you.”

Viktor drew in a sharp breath, his blue eyes shining.  He took Yuuri’s hand in his and laced their fingers together.

“Good,” he sighed.  “Will you come to bed with me?”

Yuuri sat up, pulled Viktor up by his hand, and led him to his bedroom.

* * *

 

Later, Yuuri lay next to Viktor in the rumpled sheets, his legs tangled with Viktor’s, unable to take his eyes off of him.  Viktor’s fingers ghosted over his ribs in a gentle caress.  Yuuri reached out and pushed back the sweaty lock of hair that had fallen into Viktor’s eyes.  Once, he had hated that lock of hair for always falling into Viktor’s face and hiding how Viktor was feeling from him, but now he loved it.  Every time it fell down, it gave him an excuse to reach out and brush it back. 

Yuuri sighed and closed his eyes.  He wanted to stay here forever, in Viktor’s bed, held in Viktor’s warm, loose embrace.  Viktor shifted in the bed and leaned forward to smooth back Yuuri’s hair and place tender little kisses along his shoulder and clavicle.

Sleepily, Yuuri looked up at Viktor, who was propped up on his elbow, his side of his face cupped in the palm of his hand, looking down at him with those intensely blue eyes.  Oh, he could get used to this sight.

Viktor reached out with his other hand and ran his fingers through Yuuri’s hair.

“Your hair is so thick and soft,” he whispered reverently.  “It’s wonderful.  I could do this forever.”

Yuuri smiled and took Viktor’s hand and kissed the pads of each finger in turn, loving the little blissful sighs Viktor made with each kiss.  On a whim, Yuuri placed a kiss in the palm of Viktor’s hand.  To his surprise, Viktor curled his hand around the kiss Yuuri had just placed there and pulled it to his chest and laid it against his heart.

Yuuri felt his heart melt even more at the sight.  

But then Viktor leaned down and kissed him, long and slow, and any thoughts of sleep that Yuuri had entertained vanished.

* * *

 

In the morning, Yuuri woke to find Viktor’s bedroom flooded with pale winter sunlight.  Viktor was sitting on the edge of the bed, fully dressed, holding a croissant in wax paper and smiling like a child on their birthday.

“Good morning, my Sleeping Beauty,” Viktor said.  Yuuri sat up on his elbows and blinked.  Viktor’s cheeks and the tip of his nose were dusted with pink. 

“Good morning,” Yuuri replied.  Was that wonderful smell coming from the croissant?  Yuuri squinted at it, making Viktor laugh.  Was that steam coming off of it?

“What time is it?”

“Almost eight,” Viktor replied, handing Yuuri the croissant.  “I had to take Makkachin out for a walk and I decided to pick up breakfast for us while I was out.” 

It was still warm, probably fresh out of the oven, but Viktor’s hand was freezing cold.  How long had he been out? 

Yuuri took a bite and sighed.  The flavor was even better than the smell. 

“Thank you,” he mumbled around a mouthful of croissant.

Viktor kicked off his shoes and curled up beside him.  He nuzzled the side of Yuuri’s neck and hummed.  Viktor’s nose was cold, but Yuuri didn’t mind.

“You smell warm,” sighed Viktor, snuggling closer.

Yuuri huffed out a soft laugh.

“That’s ridiculous,” he murmured, taking another bite.  “You can’t smell ‘warm’.”  He leaned forward to nuzzle Viktor’s pink cheek and gasped at how chilled he felt. 

“Oh my God, you’re freezing,” Yuuri said.  He put the half-eaten croissant down on the nightstand and began to unwind Viktor’s scarf.  He pressed his nose against Viktor’s neck when he exposed it, delighting in the hum of appreciation it elicited. 

“In my expert medical opinion,” Yuuri murmured as he began to unbutton Viktor’s coat, “I think you may be in danger of hypothermia.”

“Oh, is that so?” Viktor breathed.  “What is the treatment for hypothermia, Doctor Katsuki?”

“We have to warm you back up,” Yuuri replied as he slipped Viktor’s coat off his shoulders.  Underneath the coat, Viktor had on the sweater Yuuri had worn last night.

“Trying to stay warm?” he asked.  Viktor’s shy smile was breathtaking.“I wanted something of yours close to me,” he said, his fingertips gliding over Yuuri’s sweater.  “I hope you don’t mind.”

Yuuri shook his head and smiled.  It was one of the sweetest things he’d ever heard. 

“Not at all, but it’s going to have to go,” Yuuri said, slipping his hands under the bottom hem of the sweater. “The best treatment for hypothermia is direct skin-to-skin contact.  So we have to get rid of all of this,” he pulled the sweater over Viktor’s head and let it drop on the floor, “and tuck you into a nice warm bed,” he patted the mattress, “next to someone who’s also undressed.”

“And who would that someone be?” Viktor whispered huskily.

“Well, I’m willing to volunteer my services,” Yuuri murmured.

Viktor laughed as he lay down next to Yuuri on the bed.  Yuuri rolled over and began working at the fastening of Viktor’s jeans.

“I am so grateful for your help,” Viktor purred, looking up at him through his pale lashes.  “However shall I repay you?”

Yuuri shoved Viktor’s jeans off the edge of the bed and leaned over Viktor.

“Oh, I’m sure we can think of something.”

* * *

 

On Monday, both Phichit and Chris were waiting for Yuuri when he came in.  He could hear Viktor absently humming to himself as he worked in his office.

Yuuri smiled, greeted everyone, and headed to his office.  He’d almost made it there when a very loud “ahem” from Phichit caught his attention. 

He turned to look at Phichit and saw that both he and Chris were watching him very carefully.  He looked from one to the other and bit his lower lip.  Something was up.

Phichit cocked one eyebrow at him and said simply, “You got some.”

It was not a question.Yuuri felt the heat rising to his face as Chris crossed his arms over his chest and frowned at him, observing him critically.

“Are you sure?” Chris asked Phichit, never once taking his eyes off of Yuuri.  The faint sound of Viktor humming in the background filled the silence in the office. 

“Yeah,” Phichit replied, “I was his roommate for three years.  Believe me, I know when Yuuri got some.  There’s this aura about him, you know?  He glows.” 

“Are you sure it’s just not him blushing?” Chris said, winking at Yuuri.

Yuuri’s mouth worked, but the only sound that would come out was a strangled choking noise.  Phichit let his stern expression drop, threw his head back and laughed.

“Yep, you got some,” Phichit wheezed as he turned back to his work.  The humming coming from Viktor’s office stopped and Yuuri thought he could hear footsteps coming their way.

“With the way both you and Viktor are acting today, I guess it’s time to say congratulations,” Chris said.  “And it’s about time, too.”

Viktor came into the lab at just that moment, a questioning expression on his face.  But when he saw Yuuri, his expression softened and he smiled.

“Good morning, Doctor Katsuki,” Viktor said, ever the consummate professional, as he headed back to his office.  But the smoldering glance he threw at Yuuri over his shoulder was anything but.

“Good morning, Doctor Nikiforov,” Yuuri answered as he headed to his office. 

“I hope they don’t talk to each other like that in bed,” Phichit muttered under his breath.

“What was that, Doctor Chulanont?” Viktor asked.

“I said your hair looks nice,” Phichit shot back without missing a beat.

Good-natured laughter filled the office.  Yuuri caught Viktor’s eye and saw the warm, slow smile spreading over his face and knew he was responding in kind.

Viktor headed back to his office, humming a few bars of the song he’d been humming when Yuuri walked in.  Yuuri knew the song: it had been popular last year and Sara had often played the Italian version when she cooked.  Yuuri sipped his coffee and headed to his office, softly singing a few of the lines.

“Stammi vicino, non te ne andare…”  Yuuri trailed off when he heard Phichit groan and curse.  He caught Chris’ muttered “mon dieu” and figured that he and Viktor could probably milk this for quite some time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The name for this chapter comes from the Pet Shop Boys song [Love Comes Quickly](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QHaA1beOwrY). It seemed appropriate. :-)
> 
>  **Stammi vicino, non te ne andare** \- Stay close to me, do not go away
> 
>  **mon dieu** \- My God
> 
> Thank you all again for all the wonderful comments and kudos! You guys are AWESOME!! Feel free to share this fic as well! I'll be answering all the wonderful comments next week. Also, this week has been crazy for me and next week isn't looking much better, so I may not update again until Tuesday. I'm going to aim for Monday, but I might be late... And there will be more of Littorella's wonderful art on the next update as well.


	9. In Elgon's Shadow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri caught a flash in the sky out of the corner of his eye. He paused in his work and looked up. 
> 
> “Did you see that light over there?” he asked, swab in hand, poised to collect another sample. Where the stars should be, there was only darkness. “I thought the rainy season was over and we shouldn’t have any more storms.”
> 
> “We shouldn’t,” Viktor agreed. “It was probably just heat lightning. Nothing to worry about.”
> 
> Yuuri nodded and returned to work on the bat. He had just finished collecting the samples from the next bat when there was another flash. This time when Yuuri looked up, he caught a glimpse of another, far away flash in the clouds, followed by a distant rumble.
> 
> Yuuri sighed. That was definitely a storm, and it looked like it was getting closer. It was time to speed things up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter deals with taking biological samples from live animals that are not destroyed after the samples are taken, the dissection of a dead animal, and mild blood.

“Are you ready to head out tomorrow, Yuuri?” Celestino asked, patting him firmly on the back.  It had been a surprise to see him again when they arrived in Nairobi for training two weeks ago.  Yuuri had known that there would be some people from the World Health Organization joining them, he just hadn’t expected one of them to be his old supervisor. 

There were several teams here, most of them from the various and sundry divisions of the Institut Pasteur, although there were a couple of teams from WHO as well.  The Russian contingent from Saint Petersburg had spirited Viktor away, leaving him to deal with Celestino on his own. 

It’d been just over a year since Yuuri had seen Celestino and while he was sporting more silver in his signature ponytail, he seemed otherwise unchanged.  Yuuri smiled, but honestly he didn’t really want to talk to Celestino right now. 

“I guess so,” Yuuri demurred, taking a sip from his bottle of water.  Tomorrow they would all be going out into the field to obtain samples from fruit bats roosting in a few of the many caves around Mount Elgon, the long-extinct volcano which straddled the border between Kenya and Uganda.   Even though the training Lilia and Mikembe had given them had been very thorough, Yuuri was still nervous.  They’d gone out several times together as a large group, but this was the first time they would be going out in their individual teams and it made him anxious.

“Yuuri,” Celestino said in an almost fatherly manner, “you always worry so much!  Try to lighten up a little!”

“Oh, hello Celestino!” Viktor said, coming up behind Yuuri and giving his shoulders an affectionate little squeeze.   “Tomorrow’s the big day, yes?”

Celestino turned his attention to Viktor and Yuuri used the opportunity Viktor had afforded him to slip away from the uncomfortable situation.  He found a quiet corner where he could be alone with his thoughts and observe everyone. 

His gaze fell on the Russians parked at a table under one of the trees on the back patio.  Yuuri had worked with Georgi at the CDC and he recognized Viktor’s cousins Yuri and Mila from some of the old photographs Viktor had at his desk.  Viktor had been shocked when he saw Yuri: “Yura, you’re taller than me!  The last time I saw you, you were just an angry little kitten!”  Otabek, who was one of the most serious and intense persons Yuuri had ever met, rounded out the group. 

Mikembe, the field epidemiologist who had been their instructor, was sitting at the table with the team from Tehran, engaged in an animated conversation with one of their epidemiologists.  The two teams that WHO sent kept their own company, with the exception of Celestino, who, like Mikembe,  was busy making the rounds.  Even Lilia had come to join them all for dinner on the night before they left. 

Yuuri took a deep breath and sighed.  Would it be too early to call it a night?  It would be their last chance to sleep in a proper bed for several days, and they did have to get an early start tomorrow-

“Hey,” Yuri said, coming up and kicking Yuuri’s foot in way of greeting. “Let’s talk.”

Yuuri looked at Yuri, hands stuffed in the pockets of his ever present hoodie, his long blond hair in a loose French braid Mila had done for him.  Yuri had practically snarled at him when they met and had cast more than one disdainful glance at him during training.  Why was he coming to him now?

“I- I’m sorry?” Yuuri asked.

Yuri plopped down on the bench next to Yuuri and put his feet up on the table.

“I was pretty upset with you for a while,” Yuri said, pursing his lips.  Yuri wasn’t looking at him and Yuuri followed his gaze across the patio to Otabek.  “I was up for the job they gave you,” Yuri muttered. “I felt like the position had been stolen from me.”

Yuuri blinked.  This was the first he’d heard of this.

“I would have gotten it but Viktor convinced them to change the requirements so that I was out of the running,” Yuri said.  “I was upset, but I decided it was a waste of energy and not worth my time.  Then I found out you got the job and I was angry, _so angry_.  I mean, after all that shit you said in Sochi, they took away _my_ shot and gave it to _you_?”  Yuri bit his lower lip, shook his head, and sighed.

Sochi?  What the _fuck_ had he done in Sochi?  Oh my God-

“But it’s not your fault, not really,” Yuri continued.  “Viktor’s the one who changed the rules.   If there’s anyone for me to be angry at, it would be that old man.  But I’m not even upset with him, at least not anymore.”

Yuri turned to look at him and his expression softened. 

“It’s obvious you two are happy together,” Yuri said.  “And Beka and I wouldn’t have met if I moved to Paris.  So, it worked out.  Just don’t go getting drunk at these conferences any more, okay?  And if you hurt Viktor, I swear to God I’m gonna-”

“YUURI!” Viktor interrupted, coming over and grabbing Yuuri’s hand.  “People are getting up and dancing!  Come dance with me!”

Yuuri let Viktor pull him up off the bench and drag him away from Yuri to the middle of the patio, where the tables had been moved aside to create an open space in the middle.  Someone had found a radio and it was playing an upbeat tune.  Two of the people from WHO were already on the floor, as was Mikembe, who was motioning with his hands for others to come and join them. 

Viktor wrapped his arms around Yuuri’s waist and spun him around, laughing.  It was enough to make Yuuri dizzy.  He put his hands on Viktor’s shoulders and let him lead them around, deep in thought. 

What had he done in Sochi?  Had he somehow or another stolen this position from Yuri?  He needed to find out.

Others joined them on the floor.  Georgi led Mila out and spun her around before releasing her to dance on her own.  Jean-Louis and Camille came out, swaying in time with the music.  Even Yuri and Otabek ended up on the makeshift dance floor, never looking anywhere but at each other.

“Viktor,” Yuuri said, looking up into Viktor’s blue eyes, “what did I do in Sochi?”

Viktor’s smile grew even bigger and he chuckled, pulling Yuuri closer.

“Ah, Yuuri,” he replied, “you stole my heart.”

Yuuri swallowed, all manners of horrible things he could have done when he was drunk coming to mind.  Had he come on to Viktor?  It certainly wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility: he’d been drawn to his intelligence and his beauty…

“Oh my God,” Yuuri began, only to be interrupted by Viktor.

“You were obviously intoxicated,” Viktor said fondly.  “You came up to me and said that I had given the best talk you’d ever heard.  But you said that I was wrong, that finding and tracking viruses didn’t matter if we destroyed the climate and made our home unlivable.  So, what we really needed to do was to go to all these rich bastards that denied climate change and tell them that we could prove that they were right.  But we were going to need grant money to conduct the research.  Lots and lots of grant money.”

Yuuri looked at Viktor, horrified that something so insane could have come out of his mouth, even when he was drunk.  All the research pointed to climate change being driven by humans, and he was suggesting that they could prove the opposite?  But Viktor was smiling, clearly not at all upset by Yuuri’s inebriated proposal.

“Well, I was quite taken aback by what you’d said,” Viktor went on, “and I said so.  I was ready to write you off right there, but then you pointed a finger at me and smiled and said, ‘We’re gonna take all their damn dirty money and promise to prove them right, but we’ll fail in the attempt and prove them _wrong_!  We’ll prove that human beings are responsible for climate change and we’ll do it using the money of people who deny it.’”

Yuuri closed his eyes and groaned.  This was what he’d tracked down Viktor to tell him?

Viktor moved a hand to stroke his face.

“Then you told me that we’d have to quit our jobs to do it and you said I could come live with you in Atlanta and we’d grow our own vegetables in your backyard.  That’s when Celestino spotted you and took you away.”

Yuuri cringed.  He was never drinking again if that was the kind of stupid stuff that spewed out of his mouth when he did.

“I knew you had no intention of doing any of that,” Viktor said quietly.  “It was obvious to anyone who bothered to look that you’d had too much to drink.  But there was so much passion in what you said, so much concern for the well-being of others, that I was moved.”

Yuuri looked up at Viktor and bit his lip.  Well, it was crazy, but better than what he feared he’d done. 

“And I thought you were cute,” Viktor sheepishly murmured, “really cute.  So I kept my eye on you, followed you career.  Because I knew that if you had half as much passion about your work when you were sober, you’d be a wonderful epidemiologist to work with.  When you left the CDC, I asked Phichit and Celestino about you.  Phichit said you were shy but very focused and driven.  Celestino said the CDC made you a scapegoat.  He also said you were one of the best epidemiologists he’d ever worked with.  So I reached out to you, and here you are.”

But there was still another question to answer.

“Yuri said he was up for my position and that you changed the rules,” Yuuri stated.  “Is that true?”

Viktor sighed and nodded.

“I did,” he said quietly.  “You’d been treated poorly by the organization you devoted your life to.  Yura, on the other hand, is fine where he is.  You needed a second chance, Yuuri.  I wanted to give it to you.   Is that so wrong?”

Yuuri shook his head and smiled.  Yuri was right: everything had worked out for the best in the end.

The music changed, going from upbeat to slow and seductive.  Viktor moved in close and encircled Yuuri’s waist with his arms.  Yuuri draped his hands over Viktor’s shoulders, letting them come to rest behind his neck.  He leaned forward until their foreheads were touching and they began to sway in time with the music.  Yuuri heard someone wolf whistle and glanced over to see Georgi cheering them on. 

“Keep your eyes on me,” Viktor whispered, his lips just a few centimeters from his own. 

“Like I could look anywhere else,” Yuuri replied.  And the rest of the world fell away.

They danced until the patio began to clear out, their fellow trainees returning to their rooms for the evening in preparation for going out into the field tomorrow.   At some point, someone turned off the radio.  But Yuuri and Viktor continued to sway together in the middle of the patio, pressed close to one another.

“There’s no music,” Yuuri breathed. 

“Do we need any?” Viktor asked.

Yuuri huffed out a little laugh and shook his head.

“People are leaving,” he murmured, his lips against Viktor’s ear.  “So should we.”

Viktor leaned down and kissed him, long and slow, right there in the middle of the patio.  No one was around to see them, and Yuuri wouldn't have cared if they were.

Yuuri moved out of the circle of Viktor’s arms, took Viktor’s hand, and slowly led him off the makeshift dance floor.  They drifted back to their room and once they were inside, Yuuri pushed Viktor down on the bed and claimed his mouth with his own.  Yuuri’s hands skimmed up and under Viktor’s shirt, pushing it over his head.

“We’re not going to have a proper bed for a few days,” Yuuri said after he took his own shirt off and let it drop to the floor.  “I think we should make use of it while we can.”

Viktor’s only answer was a wolfish smile before he pulled Yuuri back down for another kiss.

* * *

 

 

After their third trip out into the field in a week, Yuuri was beginning to feel a little less nervous.  They had the process down now, and it got easier every time.

An hour before sunset, they donned their protective gear, a slow and laborious process.  Yuuri went first, with Viktor watching him to make sure he’d put everything on correctly.  He put on the first set of gloves, then pulled the Tyvek suit up and over his clothes.  He slipped a surgical mask on, then pulled the hood over his head.  The full-face splashguard and headlight went on next, followed by the gumboots and a second pair of nitrile gloves.  Yuuri put on the heavy leather gloves last, flexing his fingers to make sure he could move properly in them.

When he was done, he dropped his arms at his side and sighed.  It was exhausting just getting dressed.

Viktor nodded, indicating that everything had gone on correctly.  Yuuri watched as Viktor suited up, watching him carefully to make sure Viktor was fully protected.  Finally, they were both properly attired in their personal protective equipment, and not a moment too soon.  The sun was hanging low on the horizon.  The bats would be leaving soon.

It was time to head to the cave.  Viktor grabbed their supply of white canvas sacks and Yuuri carried the mist net tucked under his arm. 

It was a pain to wear all this protective gear.  It was hot, bulky, and difficult to move in.  But without the suits, they would be at risk to whatever the bats might be carrying.

As twilight fell, they stretched the net over the entrance to the cave and waited.  The net barely moved when the first bat flew into it.  Gradually, a few more bats joined it, squealing in displeasure.  As more bats were caught in the net, it became a fight to keep it upright.

“That’s good,” Viktor said.  “Bring it down.”

Yuuri sighed with relief and gradually began to lower the net.  He was getting a workout just keeping the net stationary.  Who would have thought a few little bats could exert so much force?

Yuuri held the net while Viktor untangled the nearest bat.  Once it was free, he neatly deposited it in one of the canvas sacks and tied it closed. 

They worked slowly, taking their time untangling the bats from the net and slipping them into their individual sacks.  Two hours and thirteen sacks later, the net was empty.

Next to him, Viktor sighed. 

“Now the real work begins,” he said.  Yuuri noticed Viktor’s bangs were plastered to the side of his face and his forehead was beaded with sweat.  He wanted to reach out and sweep them back, but there would be time for that later, once all the samples had been taken and everything had been cleaned up. 

Together, they trudged down the side of the hill, each of them carrying sacks full of bats, which thankfully had settled down.  They would retrieve the net when they brought the bats back to the cave.  Yuuri would be glad when this was all done.  The tip of his nose had been itching since he got dressed.  It would be a joy to sit down and scratch it.

The table where they took samples was set up outside their tent.  The truck was parked next to the table and everything they needed was in the bed of the truck within easy reach.   They hung the bats on a string they’d tied between two small trees and hauled the canister of liquid nitrogen out of the bed of the truck and set it on the ground next to the table.

Yuuri placed the falcon tubes and swabs next to his work surface as Viktor retrieved the first of the bats.  Carefully, Viktor pulled the bat out of the sack.  Immediately, the once docile bat began to flap and screech at them, desperate to get away, as though it knew what was coming.

“I’m sorry,” Viktor cooed to the bat as he laid her out on the table under the harsh lantern light, “I know this isn’t fun, but this is for science.  You’re helping so many others.”

Yuuri shook his head and laughed.  Leave it to Viktor to try to sweet talk an angry little fruit bat like it was his beloved poodle. 

“Vitya,” Yuuri murmured, “the bat doesn’t know that she’s helping people.  Like Mikembe said, she’s just mad we grabbed her.”

“Well, someone should tell her about her wonderful, priceless contribution to science,” Viktor pouted. 

Viktor held down the wings while Yuuri leaned in, swab at the ready, and pried open the bat’s mouth.  Her wings might have had a span of a third of a meter, but her body was tiny.  She could fit in the palm of his hand and weighed next to nothing.  But Yuuri knew size was deceptive.  This small bat could harbor any one of several fatal viruses, all too small to be seen with the naked eye.  Size didn’t matter in his profession. 

As soon as he saw the inside of her tiny pink mouth, he stuck the swab in and quickly swirled it around, collecting as much saliva as he could.  Then he stuck the swab in a collection tube, snapped off the end of the swab, and sealed the lid.  Quickly, he placed the tube in the top slot of the metal cryocane and dropped the end of the swab in the biohazard container.  It took all of five seconds for him to collect the sample.  Then he grabbed the next swab and collection tube and repeated the process, this time around the bat’s cloaca to gather a sample of guano.  She liked that even less than the first swab.  Lastly, Yuuri picked up a syringe from the table and drew blood from the bat.  They knew that live viruses could be in any one of these three samples.

“And now,” Yuuri said as he labeled the cane and lowered it into the liquid nitrogen, “my partner will thank you for your contribution to science by feeding you dinner.”

Viktor chuckled as he fed the bat a highly concentrated sugar water solution from a dropper before he placed her back in the bag with several pieces of fruit.  The bat couldn’t feed normally tonight because of them, and they didn’t want her or any of her fellows to perish because of their efforts. 

“Alright, my love,” Viktor said as he walked back to the table with another sack, “are you ready for your next victim?”

Yuuri raised his eyebrows at Viktor. 

“Bring it on,” he said, holding up his gloved hands like a surgeon or a mad scientist.

Viktor laughed, opened the bag, and retrieved the next bat.

The operation went smoothly until they were halfway through gathering samples from the fifth bat.  Yuuri caught a flash in the sky out of the corner of his eye.  He paused in his work and looked up. 

“Did you see that light over there?” he asked, swab in hand, poised to collect another sample.  Where the stars should be, there was only darkness.  “I thought the rainy season was over and we shouldn’t have any more storms.”

“We shouldn’t,” Viktor agreed.  “It was probably just heat lightning.  Nothing to worry about.”

Yuuri nodded and returned to work on the bat.  He had just finished collecting the samples from the next bat when there was another flash.  This time when Yuuri looked up, he caught a glimpse of another, far away flash in the clouds, followed by a distant rumble.

Yuuri sighed.  That was definitely a storm, and it looked like it was getting closer.  If they got caught in a storm, the roads would get muddy and might become impassable.  They could be stuck here.  And if they were stuck here for too long, their samples would degrade and everything they had done tonight would be for nothing.  But there was no way to pack everything up and try to outrun the storm either: they didn’t have enough time.  And Viktor could be right: it could just be heat lightning, an electrical storm in the clouds, with no rain.  There was no use worrying about things they couldn’t change.   

“Ready for the next one?” Viktor asked as he put the bat back in its sack.

“Yeah,” Yuuri said, looking out to where the storm was.  “We need to hurry.  I don’t like the look of those clouds.”  If nothing else, they needed to have everything put up before the storm hit.  One good gust of wind could send samples flying and contaminate their tent as well as their samples.

When Viktor went to retrieve the eighth bat, he looked inside the bag and muttered a curse.

“Yuuri,” Viktor said, “this one is dead.”

“Damn,” Yuuri grumbled.  He peered inside the sack and looked at the bat, frowning.  The bat was curled up on its side and looked sickly compared to the others he’d dealt with that night. 

Their protocol dictated that, in the case one of the bats they had captured perished, they should dissect it and get samples of the liver and spleen for further analysis. 

“Put him back,” Yuuri said.  “We’ll dissect him once we’re done with the others.”

Under his splashguard, Viktor’s eyes crinkled.  Yuuri knew he was smiling. 

“I was thinking the same thing.”

They processed the rest of the bats smoothly and efficiently, aware of the fact that the storm was definitely coming their way.  The surgical mask and the splashguard protected Yuuri from a number of things, but not smells, and he caught the clean scent of rain on the breeze.

“Okay, let’s dissect the bat,” Yuuri sighed as Viktor fed the last bat her sugar water.

“Are you sure?” Viktor said.  “I think that storm’s going to hit in a few minutes.”  A low rumble of thunder punctuated Viktor’s words.

“It’s now or never,” Yuuri replied.  “The bat’s not going to last much longer, you know?”

“Alright,” Viktor relented, “let me put this one up and I’ll get it.”

While Viktor put the bat back in her sack, Yuuri sprayed his hands with disinfectant, coating his thick leather gloves.  Then he pulled them off and put them to the side, flexing his fingers.  There was no way he could dissect the bat with those gloves: bats were very small and he needed all the manual dexterity he could get.  Plus they only wore the gloves to protect them in the case of bats trying to bite them.  A dead bat couldn’t bite him and he still had two layers of nitrile gloves on underneath, so he was protected.  Quickly, he grabbed the scalpel out of the trunk. 

Viktor carefully took the dead bat out of the bag and laid it on the table.  Rigor mortis was already beginning to set in, which happened quickly with smaller mammals. 

Yuuri frowned.  They really didn’t have much time at all, either from the rigor or the storm.  He had to move quickly and get the samples as fast as he could.

Yuuri made the incision along the torso of the bat, neatly slicing it open.  Viktor had also taken off his heavy gloves and was in nitrile gloves, holding the flaps of skin aside as Yuuri worked.

Once the bat was open, Yuuri pursed his lips in concentration.  The organs already looked bad and he wasn’t sure if it was from the elapsed time or some virus at work on them.  There were obvious signs of stress on all the organs, making Yuuri both nervous and excited.  Biting his lower lip, Yuuri sliced into the liver just as thunder boomed overhead, startling him.

Yuuri felt a sharp pain in his index finger and quickly yanked his hand away.

“Shit!” Yuuri hissed.

He grabbed the bottle of disinfectant, and immediately sprayed his finger.  Both pairs of gloves had been sliced open, blood from the scalpel darkening the edges. 

“Yuuri?” Viktor said, confused.

Yuuri shoved his hand next to the lantern, adrenaline already kicking in. 

 _Please, God_ , he thought, _let it be just a scratch.  Just a little scratch_ -

A drop of blood welled up on his finger, visible between the sliced layers of his gloves.

 _“NO!”_ Yuuri wailed, swallowing down bile.  Viktor was leaning over, looking at his hand-

“Oh my God,” Viktor breathed and dragged Yuuri back to the table.  He grabbed one of the sterile wipes, took the bottle of disinfectant from Yuuri’s nerveless hand, and sprayed the cut again, whispering to himself in Russian.  The disinfectant washed the blood out of the cut.  Maybe it was enough-

Inside his gloves, another droplet oozed up out of the cut and ran down his finger. 

Viktor pulled Yuuri’s damaged gloves off and brought Yuuri’s hand up to his face.  Yuuri was sucking in breath so hard that his surgical mask brushed against his lips, threatening to be inhaled with every harsh breath.  He was shaking so hard that he thought he might not be able to keep standing.

He’d been a _fool_!  They should never have cut open the damn bat, protocol be damned!  Now he had been exposed to whatever was in the bat.  It was flowing through his blood, making its way through his body-

Yuuri squeezed his eyes shut and took a shuddering breath.  Adrenaline was coursing through him, making his heart race.  And that meant that it would be pumping his blood even faster, carrying whatever was in the bat even more rapidly through his body-

He had to get control and he had to do it _now_. 

Yuuri took another breath, willing himself to calm down.  Viktor was still examining his hand, talking to himself.  He sounded panicked, which wasn’t helping Yuuri in the least bit.  Yuuri pulled his hand out of Viktor’s grasp.

Yuuri held his hand up and examined it again in the lantern light.  There was nothing he could do now.  There was always the chance that the bat had simply perished from lack of food and being caught in the net.  They were fragile and delicate creatures, after all. 

Maybe there was nothing in the bat at all.  Maybe it was just old.  Maybe nothing would happen.  Maybe he would be fine.

Distantly, Yuuri was aware that Viktor was talking.

“We need to call the clinic and tell them we’re coming in,” Viktor said, breathless.  “We need to get you home right away-”

“Viktor,” Yuuri said, forcing himself to be calm, “we can’t leave right now.”  He stripped off the gloves on his left hand, tossed them in the biohazard container, and walked over to the first aid supplies in the trunk.  Silently, he pulled a packet of antibiotic gel and a bandage out of the kit.  His finger had already stopped bleeding. 

“Yuuri,” Viktor said, “what are you doing?  We need to pack everything up and go-”

Yuuri shut him out, concentrating on cleaning the cut and bandaging it.  Then he pulled two fresh pairs of nitrile gloves out of the box, put them on, and grabbed the scalpel.  He swallowed down another wave of fear when he saw the dark blood staining the blade.

Yuuri gave Viktor a half-smile behind his surgical mask and full-face splashguard.  He knew Viktor couldn’t see his smile, but he could see his eyes and he hoped that would be enough.

“Viktor, we can’t leave yet.  It’s the middle of the night.  We need sunlight so we can properly see the road.  And we still have a few more specimens we need to get from this bat.  They won’t go in the vials all by themselves.”

“You’re more important than the samples, Yuuri!” Viktor cried. 

Under different circumstances, Yuuri would have taken Viktor in his arms and reassured him.  But now, it was out of the question.

“There’s not a thing you can do for me right now, Vitya,” he said gently.  “If you want to do something to help me, then help me get these samples.  Because if there’s something in this bat, it’s in me now.”

Sighing, his shoulders sagging, Viktor relented and rejoined Yuuri, but his worry was evident.  Yuuri retrieved the rest of the samples and put them in their vials.  When he looked up at Viktor, he saw silent tears sliding down Viktor’s face behind his splashguard.

As they sealed the samples in the canister of liquid nitrogen, the rain began to fall in heavy, fat drops, peppering the tarp they had stretched over their work area.  They continued cleaning up, spraying everything down and wiping it off as the rain fell.   The shower was short-lived, lasting only a few minutes before it moved on.  Viktor had been right: the storm was more bluster than threat.  But the damage had been done.

Viktor dug a hole by lantern light and buried the dead bat, double wrapped in airtight bags sprayed down with disinfectant.  They didn’t need it anymore and they didn’t want to leave it out where something or someone could find it.

They trudged back to the cave to return the bats to their home and retrieve their net.  The bats flew into the cave, chittering as they departed.  With a heavy heart, Yuuri watched them go.   

After they had cleaned, stored, and secured all their equipment, Viktor made the call to the clinic, pacing around outside the tent like a caged tiger.  No one was there to answer the call, so Viktor tapped out a rapid text to Lilia’s personal number, letting her know what had happened and that they would need an immediate medical evacuation.

Yuuri sat down heavily on his cot.  He was physically exhausted, but his brain would not shut up and give him and peace.  He kept thinking about the accident and hoping to God there was nothing in the bat that could infect him.  He sighed and buried his face in his hands.

“We should try to sleep,” Viktor said, sitting down next to him and wrapping an arm around his shoulders.  “We’ll leave as soon as it’s light and head back to the clinic.  I’m sure Lilia will call for the plane as soon as she gets the text.  Until then, let’s get some rest.”

Yuuri agreed and lay down on his cot.  Viktor lay down beside him and guided Yuuri to curl up around him.  They’d been sleeping with their cots next to one another, but right now, they both needed to be as close to each other as possible.  It was a tight fit with both of them on one cot, but Yuuri was grateful for Viktor’s soothing presence.   They clung to one another, both of them realizing that there was a very real possibility of Yuuri going into quarantine when they got back to Paris.  This might well be their last chance to be close to one another for a very long time. 

Yuuri didn't even want to think about the other possibility.

He closed his eyes and tried to sleep, but it was a futile effort. 

An hour before dawn, Yuuri quit pretending to be asleep and sat up.  Immediately, Viktor reached out to him, resting a soothing hand on Yuuri’s arm.

“Are you okay?” he asked.  He looked so tired…

Yuuri put his hand on Viktor’s and gave it a gentle squeeze. 

“I can’t sleep,” he said.  “I’m going to go ahead and get up.”

Viktor sat up next to him.

“I’ll join you.”

Together they left the tent and went outside.  Yuuri sat down on the tailgate of the truck and Viktor came to sit beside him.  The sun wasn’t up yet, but it was light enough to see.  Silently, Viktor’s arm came around Yuuri’s shoulders and Yuuri leaned his head against Viktor’s shoulder, taking comfort in his presence.

Together, they watched the sun rise.  Yuuri couldn’t help but wonder if it was the last one he’d ever see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are lots of caves around [Mount Elgon](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mount_Elgon), probably the most famous of which is [Kitum Cave](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kitum_Cave), which may or may not be where the [Marburg virus](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marburg_virus) resides. 
> 
> The gorgeous art for this chapter was done by [Littorella](https://littorella.tumblr.com/). It was a pleasure and an honor working with her. :-)
> 
> I'll probably post the next chapter on Thursday. Thank you all so much for coming along with me on this ride. I will get to all the lovely comments you have all so kindly left for me by the end of this week. I'm doing another bang and it posts on Friday, plus I'm doing check-ins for other fandom-related things, so I'm a little busy. Thank you all for bearing with me and sorry I'm behind.
> 
>  
> 
> [Say hello on Tumblr!](http://paintingwithwords.tumblr.com)


	10. Solitary Confinement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor acted like he wasn’t worried, but he was a terrible liar. Yuuri could see the fear etched in the pinched corners of his eyes, hear it in the strained timbre of his voice. He knew that Viktor was concerned. 
> 
> “They’re just acting out of an abundance of caution,” Viktor said in one of their FaceTime sessions. Yuuri had been allowed to keep his phone, even though he knew it would be destroyed if he fell ill. Autoclaving it would render it sterile as well as inoperative. 
> 
> Yuuri sat on the bed, phone in his hands, trying to pretend that nothing was wrong and failing.
> 
> “I understand,” Yuuri said, “but I’ll really be glad to get out of here.”
> 
> On Yuuri’s phone, Viktor sighed.
> 
> “I can’t wait for you to get out, either,” he said. “I’ll be right there waiting for you once you get past the twenty-one day incubation period. Because you’re not going to get sick. You’re going to be just fine. You’ll see.” 
> 
> Yuuri hoped Viktor was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again to everyone who has commented here and on Discord! The comments keep me going, baby!
> 
> Warnings for this chapter include non-specific mentions of vomiting, some strange imagery (fever dreams, delirium), and people on fire.

Yuuri removed his Tyvek suit and looked around the small room that would be his home for at least the next three weeks.  He’d known it was a very real possibility that he would go into quarantine when they returned to Paris, but now that it had actually happened, it was much worse than he’d imagined.

The room was large for a hospital room, but it was still a very small space to be confined to for the better part of a month.  There were no windows, no connection to the world outside this room whatsoever except through a series of rooms you had to badge into, each one separate and self-contained to prevent whatever was in one room from getting into the next room.

It made Yuuri feel claustrophobic, scared, and alone.

Inside his room, there was a standard issue hospital bed.  The computer by the bed had a wall-mounted monitor arm with a keyboard tray.  A table and two chairs were on the left hand side of the room and a workstation with a computer was on the right, along with a well-stocked refrigerator filled with snacks and individual bottles of juice and oral hydration solution.   The restroom was a couple of meters from the bed and a metal shelving unit loaded with towels and linens was by the entrance.

The television on the far wall, however, wasn’t standard.  It was a wide screen smart television, a definite upgrade from what he’d expected.  Several streaming services were also available.  Well, if he never got sick, at least he’d have plenty to watch and plenty of time to do it.

Everyone was acting like this was just a precautionary measure, like there was nothing to worry about.  Yuuri tried to put on a brave face and play along, but on the inside, he was absolutely terrified.

While they were in route to Paris, Lilia had worked up the samples from the dead bat.  So far, they had come back negative for everything she’d quick tested it for.  Rabies, Marburg, Ebola… all negative.  That gave Yuuri some small comfort, but not much.  Because he knew something had killed the bat and he was afraid that whatever it had was at this very moment inside his body, hijacking his cells, reproducing itself as it prepared to declare war on him. 

Yuuri hoped that whatever it was would not be able to infect him, or would prove to be harmless to humans.  But he’d received a direct blood-to-blood load of whatever had been in the bat.  Even something that should not be able to infect him might under these circumstances.  He remembered the story that went around the labs at the CDC about when they managed to infect macaques with smallpox.  It shouldn’t have been possible, but they’d introduced a large enough viral load directly into their bloodstreams to overwhelm their immune systems. 

He looked at his bandaged finger and sighed.  Had the same thing happened to him?  Only time would tell.

In the evening, Yuuri texted Mari and Minako and Sara to let them know what had happened.  They were all concerned, but he reassured them and told them not to worry, despite the fact that he was very worried.  Leo texted him, saying that Georgi had told him about the accident and that they were all pulling for him.

That night, Yuuri dreamed that he was back at the CDC, walking through the BSL4 labs with nothing on but scrubs.  Someone in a blue space suit came around the corner with a long stick and forced him along a row of cages on the wall.  They made him get in one and they locked the door behind him.

A macaque was in the cage next to him, her face covered with so many painful blisters that it looked like pebble-grain leather.  The macaque looked at him sadly and reached down into her fruit bucket and offered him slices of apples balanced on her outstretched palm.  Yuuri startled himself awake and sat bolt upright in bed, looked around the room, and swallowed. 

Would he leave this room alive?

 

* * *

 

Viktor acted like he wasn’t worried, but he was a terrible liar.  Yuuri could see the fear etched in the pinched corners of his eyes, hear it in the strained timbre of his voice.  He knew that Viktor was concerned.   Viktor was upset that he couldn’t enter Yuuri’s room: he had never been certified for BSL4 lab work.  And even if he had been, it had been a long time since he’d done rounds.  There was no way they would have accepted him as one of Yuuri’s doctors, should he become ill.  You didn’t get visitors in quarantine.  Only the doctors and nurses who had volunteered to take care of you came in, for very good reason.  They wanted to minimize contact.  Still, this enforced separation ate at them both. 

“They’re just acting out of an abundance of caution,” Viktor said in one of their FaceTime sessions.  Yuuri had been allowed to keep his phone, even though he knew it would be destroyed if he fell ill.  Autoclaving it would render it sterile as well as inoperative. 

Yuuri sat on the bed, phone in his hands, trying to pretend that nothing was wrong and failing.

“I understand,” Yuuri said, “but I’ll really be glad to get out of here.”

On Yuuri’s phone, Viktor sighed, his shoulders sagging.

“I can’t wait for you to get out, either,” he said.  “I’ll be right there waiting for you once you get past the twenty-one day incubation period.  Because you’re not going to get sick.  You’re going to be just fine.  You’ll see.” 

Yuuri hoped Viktor was right.

* * *

 

The second night of Yuuri’s quarantine, they had more information regarding the bat.  The samples had been tested against several viral families and had come up negative on everything so far.  There were more tests to do and they were also going to look at the samples with an electron microscope to try to visually identify it and determine if this was something entirely new.  Yuuri rested a little easier, but he was still afraid.  He was certain the bat had been infected with something.

Yuuri started working on a paper detailing their procedures in the field and his possible exposure to the virus that had killed the bat.  Viktor chided him for it and said he should be resting, but Yuuri was adamant.

"This gives me something to do besides sit here and worry,” Yuuri told him.  “I was there and I want to contribute _something_.  This is part of my job and I’m going to do it.” 

Seeing that Yuuri would not be dissuaded, Viktor relented and they began composing the paper over FaceTime.  When Yuuri noticed Viktor yawning, he fussed at him.

“Vitya, you should go to bed,” he said.  “You look tired.”

“I can’t sleep,” Viktor replied softly.  “I’ve gotten used to sleeping next to you.  The bed’s too big without you.”

Yuuri blinked back sudden tears. 

“I’ll be out of here soon,” he said, feigning a confidence he didn’t feel.  “But for now, you should get some rest.”

“If anyone should be resting, it’s you,” Viktor replied.  “You’re in a much better position to fight off a possible infection if you’re properly rested.”

Yuuri felt a shiver go down his spine.  It was the first time Viktor had said he might be infected.  Up until now, he’d always insisted that Yuuri was going to be fine.

“And if I’m not infected, then I can knock out this paper while I’m in here and actually do something useful.”

“That’s admirable,” Viktor said, “but I’d feel better if you went to bed.”

“Fine, I’ll make a deal with you,” Yuuri said.  “I’ll go to bed if you go to bed.”

Viktor tapped his finger against his lips and smiled. 

“Only if you take your phone with you.  We can go to bed together and I can watch you sleep.”

“Deal.”  Yuuri saved the document, curled up in bed, and watched as Viktor did the same.  Makkachin lay down beside Viktor and he wrapped an arm around her, hugging her tight.  Yuuri felt the prickle of tears at the corners of his eyes.  He missed both of them terribly.

They talked for a little while, but Viktor’s eyes grew heavy and Yuuri watched him doze off.  He put the phone down on the pillow next to him, ready for the day that he could lie beside Viktor and watch him sleep again.

 

* * *

 

“Don’t let this worry you, Yuuri,” Chris said.  Viktor had facetimed him from the office and they were taking turns talking to him. 

“Do you remember when you were in training and I told you that I used to work in the BSL4 lab in Geneva?” Chris said.   

Yuuri nodded. 

“Well, I stopped because I had a little accident,” Chris continued.  “I was inoculating newborn mice with an experimental vaccine that hadn’t been approved for human trials yet.  I went to inject the mouse, sneezed, and managed to inoculate myself.” 

Yuuri’s eyes went wide.  Accidents in BSL4 were scary as hell.  And they could be fatal.  BSL4 was reserved for the worst of the worst, deadly viruses that had no treatment aside from supportive care, no vaccine, and no cure.

“I got to spend three lovely weeks in a room very much like yours.  Nothing ever happened- I never had any ill effects.  And we got our first clinical out of the way.  But it was boring, so very boring…” Chris rested his chin on his hand and sighed expressively.  “I read a lot.  I slept a lot.  When I got out, I had a lot of sex.  A _whole_ lot of sex.  I had to make up for what I’d missed out on while I was in quarantine.” 

Yuuri felt the heat rising to his face.  When he got out, he was _definitely_ going to make up for lost time with Viktor.   

Chris smirked at him on the screen.   

“Viktor was right.  You really _are_ adorable when you blush.  But really, don’t look at this as enforced isolation, look at this as a twenty-one-day paid vacation.  Sleep in.  Read.  Relax.  You’ll be fine.” 

Chris may have been bored in isolation, but Yuuri was nervous.  He’d been in quarantine for three days and was ready to climb the fucking walls. 

He wanted to go outside.  He wanted to walk on the Champ de Mars in front of the Eiffel Tower, hand in hand with Viktor.  When he got out of here, he was going to pack a picnic lunch and take Viktor there and feed him cheese and grapes in the sunshine and the fresh air.  When they were done, he’d lay his head down in Viktor’s lap and gaze up at him, compare Viktor’s eyes to the blue of the springtime sky.  Or maybe he’d make Viktor lie down and put his head in his lap, push those soft platinum bangs aside, and just admire his beautiful man. And when they were alone, he’d push Viktor back on the bed and show him just how much he’d missed him. 

Yuuri made plans for all the things he would do- walk along the Seine, visit the sakura trees, watch the stars come out and have dinner on the roof of Viktor’s apartment building.  He would go outside as much as he could to make up for the time he had to spend quarantined, separate and separated from the world. 

Phichit sent him links to books he could read online, but it was hard to hold still.  Yuuri found himself pacing the small room, or looking at the door, wishing he had a damn badge and could leave- 

Suddenly, Yuuri understood exactly why people ran quarantines.  The sense of confinement, that your fate was no longer your own and that someone else was in control, was suffocating.  It was fear that made you run, the flight or fight instinct kicking in so strongly that it overrode all logic and reason.

He ran his hands through his hair and sighed.  He couldn’t get out of here soon enough. 

 

* * *

 

Yuuri realized right away that something was wrong when he woke up.  His stomach was cramping and he felt heavy and warm.  Too warm...  He curled up on his side and clutched his stomach, feeling like he was in a fog.  But he knew he had to get up, had to walk across the small room to get the thermometer at the workstation.  He sat up slowly, swung his legs over the side of the bed, and put a hand to his head-

He barely made it to the lined trash can in time.

Afterwards, Yuuri sat on the floor, trying to catch his breath, his heart rabbiting in his chest.  He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and shakily made his way to the desk and the thermometer.

It took two tries to get the thermometer in the plastic case.  His hands were shaking and he wasn’t sure if it was from fear, fever, or a combination of the two.  Yuuri stuck the thermometer in his mouth and hit the call button.  Immediately, one of the nurses came up on the link.

“You’re up early this morning, Doctor Katsuki,” the nurse said in English, his tone carefully neutral.  “Are you feeling well?”

Yuuri shook his head and pointed to the thermometer in his mouth.  He’d been required to take his temperature twice a day in front of a nurse on the monitor.  If he felt ill, he was supposed to let them know right away.  Moaning, he rested his head in his hands, waiting for the thermometer to beep.  When it did, he slowly pulled it out and looked at the readout.

38.4C.  A little over 101F.

He was definitely running a fever.

Shit.  _Shitshitshit_ -

Yuuri showed the readout to the camera, hugging himself.  He felt too warm and he ached-

The nurse’s professional smile faltered and he took a breath, his lips drawing into a thin, grim line. 

“I’m sorry,” the nurse said.  “I’ll summon the staff.  Someone will be with you shortly.”

Yuuri nodded, dropped the plastic casing in the biohazard trash, and laid his head on the blessedly cool desk.  An odd sense of calm descended on him.  The constant worrying about whether or not he would get sick was over.

The war had begun.

 

* * *

 

It seemed to take forever for someone to come inside the room.  Yuuri shifted in bed, trying to find a comfortable position.  He felt like he might get sick again.  He’d managed to get out of the chair and take the waste basket into the bathroom so at least they wouldn’t have to see that right away, then slowly shuffled back to bed. 

Yuuri knew he needed to call Viktor.  He needed to let Viktor know what was happening and not let him hear it from someone else.  With shaky hands, Yuuri pulled his cell phone off the nightstand and into bed with him.

“Good morning, Yuuri,” Viktor’s voice sounded small and so very far away.  How he wished he was here right now.  “You’re calling early today-”

 “Vitya,” Yuuri croaked, “I’m sick.”

 The other end of the phone went silent.  And then he heard Viktor take in a long, shaky breath.

 “Yuuri, oh my God, Yuuri… Are you sure?”

 Yuuri nodded and vaguely realized Viktor couldn’t see him. 

 “Yes,” he whispered.  “I have a fever.  I vomited in the trash can.  I… I’m sorry, Vitya.”

 “Why are you sorry?” Viktor asked, his voice gentle and soothing.  “Are you sorry that you’re sick?  Oh, my Yuuri, don’t be sorry, love.  You have nothing to be sorry for, alright?  This isn’t your fault.”

 Hearing Viktor’s tender voice was too much.  Yuuri took a shuddering breath and squeezed his eyes shut, trying his best not to cry.

 “I-” Yuuri began, but stopped when he heard movement in the next room.  He knew he was hearing the doctors and nurses getting into their protective gear to come in and take care of him.  He could imagine them in there, putting on their scrubs and slipping into their blue space suits.  He had caused so much trouble already and now he was going to cause so much more, all because he had been stupid and cut himself-

“Yuuri, all you need to do is concentrate on resting and getting better,” Viktor said gently.  “Don’t worry about anything else, okay?  You’re in the best place in the world for treatment.  You know that.  Let them take care of you, love.”

“Okay,” Yuuri breathed.  Pain was blossoming behind his eyes and it made everything worse. 

On the other side of door, Yuuri could hear people talking.  The light on the security lock changed from red to green and he heard air whoosh into the room as the door opened.  Two figures in blue space suits stepped inside and closed the door behind them.  Yuuri vaguely noted the click and the sudden silence from the air system. 

“They’re here,” he whispered into the phone.  “I need to go.”

“Okay,” Viktor murmured.  “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Vitya,” Yuuri murmured.  He ended the call and let the phone fall on the pillow.

Yuuri watched the two figures in blue space suits reach up and grab yellow air hose suspended from the ceiling.  They clicked them into the suits and immediately the suits inflated, filling with air.  They approached him and Yuuri squinted at the one in the lead, a man with dark hair and kind blue eyes.

“Hello, Doctor Katsuki,” the man said.  “I’m Jean-Jacques Leroy and I’m going to be your doctor for this shift, but you can call me JJ.  This is my lovely wife, Isabella Yang,” he waved a hand to indicate the woman beside him, “will be your nurse.  Do you mind if we skip the titles and just call each other by our first names?” 

“That’s fine,” Yuuri murmured and winced.  Even talking was beginning to hurt.

 JJ smiled broadly at Yuuri and patted him gently on the shoulder with a gloved hand.

“Just relax.  We’re going to take very good care of you, Yuuri.  Leave everything to us.”

 

* * *

 

After he’d slept a bit, Yuuri felt a little better, but not much.  He still felt warm and sluggish, and his neck was sore from where they’d put in the central line to make it easier and safer to draw blood.  His body ached like he had overexerted himself and the pain in his head was like someone was driving a spike through his temples.  Nothing they gave him for it helped.  Even light and sound bothered him.  Was this how it was for Viktor when he had migraines?  He had no idea they hurt this much…

Despite this, Yuuri was still able to do a few things on his own.  He could use the restroom and shower without assistance.  He even managed to change the sheets on his bed and get into a fresh hospital gown on his own, although he had to move slowly.  His caretakers let him do what he could by himself, but they were never very far away, in case he needed assistance.  It was a small sense of autonomy, but he was grateful for it.

Yuuri’s appetite had vanished.  The mere thought of food made him queasy.  Still, JJ and Isabella coaxed him into eating a fruit cup a couple of times, but nothing he ate would stay down.  He could manage juice, but only in small sips.  The juice that had been in the refrigerator was too cold, so he had to drink it at room temperature. 

Viktor facetimed him from work and asked if he felt like talking.  Yuuri’s heart ached when he saw Viktor’s face.  He looked so worried and scared…

“I can listen,” he whispered, even though he really didn’t feel like doing much of anything.  But it would make Viktor feel better and he needed to do that for him.  “Talk to me.”

Viktor told Yuuri about their progress of the paper and told him he’d given them a great head start.   It was good to hear and see Viktor.  It made him feel less alone and cheered him.  Towards the end of the call, Phichit and Chris came in and they each talked to him for a few minutes.  But Yuuri could only take so much.  Just lying in bed listening to people talk wore on him.  Phichit could clearly see that he was fading and gave the line back to Viktor.

“Just rest and let them take care of you, Yuuri,” Viktor said, his concern evident in the soft tones he used. “They say doctors make the worst patients.  I know you feel up to it, but quit trying to do so many things for yourself.  Get some rest, okay?”

He remembered how soothing and gentle Viktor had been when he’d had the anxiety attack in Añoranza.  He could almost imagine being cradled in Viktor’s arms again, comforted and cared for. How he wished he could have that now.

“I will,” Yuuri managed.

“I’ll call you tonight, if you’re up for it.  Sleep now, okay?”

Yuuri nodded and closed his eyes.  He didn’t remember ending the call, but he must have.  Gloved hands pulled the covers up over him, tucking him in like a small child.  Yuuri drifted, grateful for the comfort of sleep.

 

* * *

 

 Someone was calling his name.

 “Yuuri?  Wake up, please.  We need to check your vitals.”

Without opening his eyes, Yuuri moaned and tried to worm his way deeper into the covers.  A gloved hand came to rest on his shoulder, stopping him from rolling away from the voice calling to him.

“We need to take your temperature, Yuuri.”

Moaning, he shifted in the bed and opened his mouth for the thermometer.  A cuff was fitted over his left bicep and he felt it slowly inflate and tighten.  Someone clipped an O2 sensor over his middle finger.  Slowly, he opened his eyes and looked around.

There were new people in his room.  Had he slept through a shift change?

“Hello there,” a woman standing next to his bed said.  “I’m Marie, and I’m the doctor who will be taking care of you for the next few hours.”  A man came to stand next to Marie and smiled down at him.  “Bonjour, Yuuri.  I’m Hugo, your nurse.  Do you need anything?”

Yuuri sighed and shook his head.  The slight motion sent waves of pain pulsing through him, making him whimper.  The thermometer beeped and Marie pulled it out of his mouth.  He rolled his head on the pillow and saw that monitors had been hooked up to him.  Vaguely, he noted that his heart rate and respiration were elevated, but his O2 levels and blood pressure were still normal. 

“You are still running a fever, but it’s not any higher than it was a couple of hours ago,” Marie said.  “This is good.  How do you feel?”

“Bad,” he murmured.  “Hot.  Achy.  And my head hurts.”

Marie frowned in sympathy. 

“I am sorry.  Would you like a damp cloth?”

Yuuri nodded and Hugo brought one for him.  He laid it on Yuuri’s forehead and smoothed his hair back out of his face.

“Better?”

“Oui,” Yuuri replied, closing his eyes.  A cool cloth had never felt so good.  “Merci.”

“De rein.” Hugo replied.  “But don’t feel like you need to practice your French right now, okay?  Don’t strain yourself.”

Yuuri laughed humorlessly.  He moved the cloth over his face and down to the hollow of his throat.  It felt like ice against his skin.  Damn it felt good…

His phone beeped at him, letting him know there was a FaceTime call coming in.  He saw that it was Viktor and answered.

“Hello, Vitya,” he croaked.  God, he sounded horrible…

“Hello, love,” Viktor answered softly.  “How are you feeling?  Are you up for a call now?”

“I feel like shit, but I can talk.”  Truthfully, he wasn’t sure how long he could manage.  His head was still pounding and his stomach was starting to cramp again.  But he wanted and needed to hear Viktor’s voice, see Viktor’s face…  If he couldn’t actually be near him, this was the next best thing.

How he wished Viktor could be here with him, sit next to him and bring him cool cloths and something to drink-

“I wish I could be there too, Yuuri,” Viktor murmured.  Had he said it out loud?  “You have no idea how much it hurts not being there with you.”

“Tell me what you’d do if you were here,” Yuuri whispered. 

 On the screen, Viktor smiled, the soft, dopey smile that Yuuri loved so much. 

“First of all,” Viktor said, “I’d make sure you were resting and that you were as comfortable as I could make you.  I’d bring you something to drink whenever you were thirsty, I’d put cool cloths on your head and neck, I’d rub your feet and get you to relax-”

“Umm,” Yuuri sighed, imaging Viktor there by his side.  He could almost see him… “Go on.”

“I’d put silly things on the television to distract you from feeling bad,” Viktor said.  “I’d help you when you needed to get up.  I’d read to you when your eyes were too tired to look at anything.  When you felt bad, I’d hold your hand and kiss your forehead.  And when you were tired and needed to sleep and couldn’t, I’d sing to you.  Would all those things be good?”

Yuuri moved his head on the pillow, not caring that it hurt. 

“Yes, they would be.  I’m going to have to get better so I can get sick and you can do all of that for me.”

Viktor hummed and smiled.  He would have to get better so he could caress his cheek.  What he would give to be able to touch Viktor again.

“You _will_ get better, love.   You have the best doctors and nurses in the world and they taking very good care of you.  Don’t worry anything, alright?  Even though I can’t be there in person, always remember that I’m with you in spirit.  Not a moment goes by that I’m not thinking of you.  When you recover and they let you out, I’ll be there to take you home.  I promise.”

Yuuri put the cloth back on his forehead and nodded again, frowning.  His headache was getting worse and even though he wanted to listen to Viktor talk to him forever, he ached and he was tired and he was worried that he was about to be sick again.

Viktor must have picked up on this and asked, “Do you need to go?”

Yuuri nodded, a little more urgently this time.  Marie was asking him, “Do you need the trash?”

“I love you, Vitya.  I- I have to go,” Yuuri said, disconnecting the call and not a moment too soon.

 

* * *

 

“It’s too bad they didn’t give you a PS4,” Phichit said.  “We could’ve gotten in some massive gaming.  There’s no better way to kill the time when you’re sick.” 

Yuuri forced a smile and rolled his head on the pillow.  He was grateful that Phichit was keeping the conversation light. 

“You know you just wanna play me when I’m sick because you know that’s the only way you can beat me,” Yuuri murmured.   

“Please,” Phichit sassed.  “I could kick your ass with one hand tied behind by back even if you were at full health.” 

Later that night, Yuuri looked at his monitor and saw that his health bar had dropped quite a bit.  He was getting low on hearts.  He needed to get some more and soon.  This room wasn’t a save point. 

He threw the covers back and slipped out of bed as quietly as he could.  If the blue suits in the room heard him, they’d put him back in bed and he wouldn’t get any hearts. 

Yuuri crept into the bathroom, but there weren’t any hearts there, not even hidden among the towels or cobwebs in the corners.

Next Yuuri looked in the refrigerator, but he couldn’t read any of the labels on the bottles.  He was about to check under the bed when one of the blue suits realized he was up and yelled at him.  Quickly, he ran through the door and into the hall, but it was dark and hard to see.  There was a rustling noise up above him.   

Yuuri looked up to see bats roosting on the ceiling.  They began to flap and drop down, taking flight in the tight confines of the hallway.  Yuuri threw his hands in front of his face to protect himself- 

-and something grabbed them and pulled them down.  Yuuri gasped and found he was back in his bed, his legs tangled in the sheets, with two people in suits trying to hold him down. 

“Ssh!  Calm down!” JJ said.  “It’s just a dream!” Once he’d quieted and calmed down, Isabella produced the thermometer and took his temperature.   

“39.4,” JJ said when he looked at the display.  "It’s going up."

Yuuri closed his eyes and pulled the covers back up over his shoulders.  Things were about to get worse. 

 

* * *

 

“Yuuri,” Marie murmured, “let’s see if you can eat something today, alright?” 

Yuuri moaned in frustration.  Every time he woke up, someone tried to get him to eat or drink something.  Yuuri whimpered and turned his head away, hand over his mouth.  Couldn’t they leave him alone?  He felt so bad, and the constant trying to get him to do something made it worse.  Couldn’t they just let him sleep it off?

If he had the strength, he would get up and run away.  But he couldn’t get out of bed on his own anymore.  The last time he’d tried, he’d swayed and would have fallen if JJ and Isabella hadn’t caught him.

“I know it’s been hard, but we have to try to keep your strength up,” Marie said.  “Your body is working really hard right now to fight off this virus, and we need to give it all the help we can.”

Yuuri started to talk, but when he opened his mouth, he coughed weakly into his hand.  Immediately, Marie put the cup down and Hugo came over to join her.  Together, they rolled him off his back and on his side, which made him cough again.  He put a hand to his chest and pulled in a shallow, shaky breath.

“How do you feel?” Marie asked.  “How does your chest feel?”

“It hurts,” Yuuri wheezed.  “It feels… heavy.”

They started him on oxygen through a nasal cannula.  It ticked a little, but the cool air blowing up his nose felt good.  Yuuri closed his eyes and tried to take a normal breath.  Too late he realized his mistake.  The coughs rattled through his entire body, forcing him to reflexively curl with every cough.  Hugo grabbed his legs and Marie grabbed his shoulder, holding him steady and in place.  Yuuri pressed his hands to his chest in an effort to ease the pain.

When the coughing fit was done, Yuuri lay on his side, gasping for breath.  He could breathe, but it hurt.  Someone was talking to him while they gently helped him roll over on his back, saying something about x-rays.  He could hear equipment being wheeled over from the corner of the room.  It was so hard to concentrate or focus on anything.  His hands were moved away from his chest and he heard a humming sound coming from above him as he slipped into an uneasy sleep.

 

* * *

 

“Yuuri, I can be on the next plane to Paris,” Mari said in Japanese, sounding upset.  “I’ll do whatever I need to do to get privileges in your hospital.  I can come take care of you.”

Yuuri rolled his head on the pillow.  When they’d last facetimed two days ago, the conversation had been light.  Now she wanted to get on a plane and fly halfway around the world to come take care of him, even though they both knew there was no way she'd be granted privileges?  How bad off was he?  What did she know that he didn’t?

Maybe she was just scared by his appearance.  Yuuri knew he looked awful.  When he’d facetimed Sara a few hours ago, she’d been shocked.

“Mari,” Yuuri wheezed, “there’s nothing you can do.  I’m in good hands here.  I’ll be okay, you’ll see.”

Mari bit her lip and nodded.  Yuuri remembered when he’d fallen ill with the flu that had killed their parents.  Mari hadn’t left his side until he’d recovered. 

“When did you last eat?” she asked.

Yuuri shook his head.  He didn’t know and it didn’t matter.  The few times he’d managed to eat, he’d gotten sick within an hour.  The IV in his hand and the bottles of juice and Pedialyte popsicles were keeping him hydrated.  Mostly.

“Yuuri, you need to at least try to eat.  Have you taught Viktor how to make okayu yet?”

Yuuri closed his eyes and sighed.  Talking was hard and he was afraid if he talked too much he’d start coughing again.  His bed had been elevated to help him breathe, but he still couldn’t take a full breath.  He felt like his fever was rising again and his skin felt tight and uncomfortable.

“Yuuri, get some rest,” Mari said.  “I’ll call Viktor and give him the recipe.  Don’t worry, okay?”

He nodded and laid his hand on his chest.  Even that simple action was draining.  He opened his eyes and everything seemed fuzzy and out of focus. 

“Love you,” he managed as he closed his eyes again and drifted back to sleep.

 

* * *

 

“Don’t talk, alright?” Viktor said when they talked again.  “Just breathe, that’s all you need to do.  I do have a surprise for you.”  Viktor smiled and looked away, then made the noise for Makkachin to come to dinner.  She bounded into the picture, jarring Viktor’s hand and the phone a little.

“She told me she misses you very much and can’t wait to see you again,” Viktor said.  Yuuri smiled weakly, remembering the line Viktor had used to get him to come over after they had returned from Peru.  He hugged the poodle plush that Viktor had dropped off for him yesterday, wishing it was the real thing.

It would be nice to have Viktor and Makkachin with him to cuddle up with right now.  He could rest his head on Viktor’s chest while Viktor petted his head.  Makkachin would try to wedge herself in between them like she always did, which would be perfect. 

Yuuri wished he was in Viktor’s bed.  Being apart from Viktor was tearing him up.  Without realizing it, he began to cry, fat tears rolling down his rosy cheeks.

“Solnyshko, what’s wrong?” Viktor said, his blue eyes welling up with tears.  “I didn’t mean to upset you-”  

“I miss you so much,” Yuuri breathed.  “I miss you more than I’ve ever missed anyone in my entire life!”

“I miss you, too,” Viktor said.  “But please, right now, don’t cry.  Crying will drain you and you need your strength-”

“I know!” Yuuri blurted, setting off a harsh bout of coughing.  JJ held him while he shuddered through the bone-jarring fit.

Once he settled back down, he reached out and touched Viktor’s image on the screen.

“I know I need to save my strength,” Yuuri wheezed, “but I need to say this, so listen.”

“I want to explore more of those damn caves with you,” he rasped.  “I want to fly to remote places, eat crappy food, and sleep under mosquito nets next to you.”  He stopped to catch his breath and looked into Viktor’s eyes. 

“This virus isn’t going to get me.  I’m not done yet.  I haven’t even started.”

On the screen, Viktor smiled through his tears.

“Oh, my sweet Yuuri,” he said, his voice shaking, “I know you’ll defeat this.  I know you’ll be alright.  And when you’ve recovered and you’re ready, I’ll be right there by your side.”

Yuuri gave Viktor a weak smile and sighed.  It would be wonderful not to be sick.

“There are a few people who are looking forward to seeing you again,” Viktor said.  “I’ve got a message for you from the Feltsman Clinic.”

Yuuri blinked.  Viktor’s face was hazy and swam in his vision.

“Do you want me to read it to you?”

Yuuri nodded and coughed into his hand.  Without asking, Isabella brought him another of the Pedialyte popsicles.  She tucked it into his hand and shakily he brought it to his mouth and bit off a small amount, letting it melt in his mouth.

“It says, ‘Dear Yuuri, we know what a strong a dedicated scientist you are and we know that what you’re going through right now is hard, but we wanted to let you know that we are all hoping for you to make a speedy and full recovery.  We miss you here and we look forward to the day we can all see you again.  We’re all pulling for you.’”  Viktor wiped a tear away, a sad smile on his face.  He looked disheveled and like he hadn’t shaved or brushed his hair in days.  Yuuri wanted to reach out and comfort him.

“They all sent you private messages as well.  I’ll read those, too.  The first one is from Lilia.  ‘Yuuri,’” Viktor began, his voice an imitation of Lilia’s clipped, no nonsense tones, “we all sincerely hope for your recovery.  You are a good man and you make my nephew happier than he’s been-” Viktor paused and took a shaky breath before he continued,” than he’s been in a very long time.  Keep bringing a smile to his face.”

Yuuri took another bite and closed his eyes, letting Viktor’s voice wash over him.  He must have dozed briefly because the next thing he knew Viktor said, “This last one is from Yura.” Yuuri opened his eyes and saw tears rolling down Viktor’s face.

“All it says is, ‘Don’t die or I’ll kick your ass.’” Viktor let the phone drop in his lap and laughed, a humorless sound.  “That little shit,” he said, but there was no anger or heat in his words. 

“Yuuri, they’re all pulling for you, just like I am,” Viktor said.  “You’ve made a difference in their lives.  You’ve touched them.  And they’re right: you are strong, so very, very strong.  You’ll be home soon.”

After Viktor let him go, JJ and Isabella helped him get comfortable, putting pillows around him to elevate his aching legs.  Isabella made sure the poodle plush was tucked under his arm. 

Yuuri looked over at his hand and noticed that the bandage he'd had over the cut was gone.  He pulled his hand up to his face and stared at his finger.  The cut had healed.  It had been so small, so inconsequential, that it was gone.  But the virus it let in was still raging in his veins, wreaking havoc on his body.

_Fuck you_ , he thought.

“You have good friends,” Isabella said, slipping a fresh pillow under Yuuri’s head, “and a wonderful husband.”  Yuuri turned his head away, not wanting to let Isabella see him cry.  Would they ever get the chance to get married? 

Yuuri knew he would eventually leave this room, one way or another.  But would he leave it alive or in a bodybag?  Would he walk out under his own power, or would he be wheeled out and cremated along with everything in the room?  Despite what he said to Viktor, he didn't know, and he was more scared than he'd ever been in his entire life.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri was freezing.  He pulled the blanket up to his chin, trying to keep warm.  He knew he should get up and adjust the thermostat or close the window, but it was too much effort.  He could hear voices murmuring, but he couldn’t tell what they were saying.

For a while, he drifted, unsure what was real and what was a dream.  Everything blurred and blended together.

A gloved hand pushed the hair back from his forehead and he felt a cool, damp cloth against his cheek.  He gasped, opening his eyes, his breath harsh and loud under the oxygen mask.  When had that been put there?

Someone in a blue space suit hovered over him.  He couldn’t see their face, couldn’t make out who it was.  The blanket was peeled back at the foot of the bed and something cold and wet slid across his leg.  He yelped and tried to jerk away, but he was held fast and lacked the strength to get out of the iron grasp. 

Yuuri looked down at the foot of the bed.  They had chained him to the bed with iron shackles and a snake was slithering across his leg, its tongue darting out to taste the air.  He whimpered in fear and the cloth came back to his head.  He was afraid they were going to stuff it in his mouth to shut him up.

The blanket was rolled back over his leg, but now the other leg was uncovered.  The snake disappeared, only to reappear and slide over the other leg.  He wailed and tried to get up, but the iron shackles at his ankles held him.  The snake slithered up over his arm, its scales cold as ice.  He closed his eyes and begged for it to end.

The covers were moved and the snake slid over his chest and his other arm, neatly avoiding the monitors stuck to his chest and the IV in his hand. 

"Ssh, Yuuri, it's alright," a woman's voice said.  "We need to cool you down, Yuuri.  Your temperature is too high."

The person in the blue space suit leaned over him.  It was Mari, but as soon as he said her name, the blue suit vanished, replaced by a Tyvek suit, surgical mask, goggles, full-face splashguard, and nitrile gloves.  All he could see were her sad eyes.

She bathed his face with a cool cloth.  He closed his eyes and leaned into it, sighing and whimpering.  When he opened them again, he was in his childhood bedroom in Hasetsu.  His mattress was on the floor and Mari sat beside him, back in her maroon jinbei, stroking his cheeks with a cool cloth. 

Distantly, he heard a monitor beeping an alert.  A patient needed him.  He got up and ran down the hall, his long white coat flapping behind him.

Craig was waiting for him in one of the rooms.  He looked angry.  Craig was always angry.

“I always knew you’d catch something,” he sneered.  “You could have been a doctor, had your own practice, but you were too afraid.  You keep trying to save your parents, but they’re gone.  You feel guilty because you lived and they didn’t.  I told you this would happen.”

Yuuri felt the anger flare up in the center of his chest, thick and heavy.  He couldn’t even breathe around it.  But he wasn’t going to argue with Craig.  This time, he was the one to turn around and walk away. 

He could hear Viktor singing a lullaby, soft and low.  But Viktor’s voice was strained, like he was trying not to cry.  Yuuri needed to find him, to make him happy again and not sad.  He ran through the rooms of the inn, looking for him, but he couldn’t find him. 

His uncle Tatsuya stood in the main dining hall, a lighter in one hand and a fuel canister in the other. 

"This place is cursed," he muttered.  "You can't make any money here.  My brother left me a trap!"  He poured the petrol over the floor and snarled.  Yuuri rushed up to try to stop him, but when he set his hand on his uncle, Tatsuya burst into flames.  Wailing, Tatsuya ran through the hall and collapsed against one of the thin paper walls, setting it on fire. 

Yuuri ran from the room, trying to escape the flames and the heat, but everywhere he went was on fire.  And then he realized _he_ was the one on fire.  He was in the crematorium.  They'd put him in and he wasn't dead yet- he was still alive- oh God, he had to let them know-

"Take me out!" he wailed.  _"Please!"_

Yuuri woke gasping for breath and realized that some of the things he’d seen weren’t real. 

He wasn't on fire.  He wasn't in a crematorium.  He was in a hospital bed, barely able to move. 

Yuuri rolled his head on the pillow and looked at JJ and Isabella as they leaned over him, wiping him down, then past them to the comforting warmth of the onsen.  The onsen shouldn’t be here.  And it certainly shouldn’t be full of macaques busily grooming each other.  Or were they real?  Had he dreamed JJ and Isabella?  He didn’t know.

His chest felt heavy, like something was sitting on it.  Was it the puppy his parents had promised him for his birthday?  Yuuri reached up to push it off, but his hands only pushed off the light sheet covering him. 

Yuuri felt awful.  His heart was fluttering in his chest, like a hummingbird beating against his rib cage.  Poor little thing: it was going to drown in there.  He had to let it out.  He reached up and tried to grasp his sternum with both hands, intending to split it apart so the little bird could get out, but he didn’t have the strength. 

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri murmured to the bird, tears streaming down his face.  Suddenly, his skin itched.  He tried to peel it off, but someone stopped him.  He rolled his head on the pillow and sobbed, praying for all of this to end and leave him in peace.

 

* * *

 

The next time he woke up, Yuuri looked around.  The colors seemed sharper and clearer.  His chest felt lighter, like a weight had been taken off of it.  When he rolled over in the bed and coughed, he actually managed to cough up something.  The napkin was placed in a large sample vial, which was sprayed down with disinfectant and slipped into a condom, then put in a cold box.  They would take that out of the room with them at shift change and run tests on it.

Yuuri lay on his side for a while, curled under the blanket, mindlessly watching television.  About halfway through the program he fell asleep and dreamed that he was a small child again.  His father was carrying him, slowly walking back and forth next to the onsen while he sang to him.  Yuuri tucked his face against his father’s neck and whimpered.  It was hot out here, too hot.

His mother came up to them with a damp towel and wiped down Yuuri’s arms and legs.

“Your fever will break soon, Yuuri,” she said softly.  Yuuri leaned his head on his father’s shoulder and coughed weakly, too tired to hold it up any longer.  He looked at his mother and she smiled gently at him, caressing his cheek.

“You’ll feel better when you wake up,” his father said and resumed his slow walk around the onsen, patting his back and singing softly to him.

 

* * *

 

 

Yuuri woke up shivering under the blankets.  Hugo was seated next to him.

Yuuri felt hot, very hot.  He pushed the blanket back and rolled over, whimpering.  As soon as the blanket fell away, he felt chilled.  Marie’s hand came up to wipe at his brow and push his damp hair back.

“It’s okay,” she murmured softly, smiling.  “You’ll be better soon.”

Yuuri ran a hand over his face and felt moisture there.  Sweat was beaded on his unshaven upper lip.  He could feel the prickle of sweat on the backs of his hands and he felt awful and gross. 

Without a word, Yuuri rolled on his other side, pulled the blankets back up, and went back to sleep.

He dozed fitfully.  He would wake to toss the blankets off and fall back asleep, only to wake again and pull them back up.  At last, he found that if he wadded the blanket up and slept with it in his arms, he was at least partially comfortable.  He dozed again, and this time there were no dreams.

 

* * *

 

Afterwards, Yuuri felt better than he had in days.  The fever wasn’t licking at his brain quite so much anymore.  He could actually focus on things around him without it sapping his strength.

When Viktor called that night, he looked happier. 

"You look so much better, Yuuri,” he said.  Yuuri smiled.  He felt better, but he still didn’t feel like talking.  Viktor understood and told Yuuri about his day.  Yuuri closed his eyes, letting himself get lost in Viktor’s voice, enjoying the rhythm and cadence of his words.  At some point, Viktor started singing.  Yuuri snuggled deeper into the blankets and let the sound of his voice soothe him like a healing balm. 

Yuuri dreamed he was walking in a field of flowers and fireflies, hand in hand with Viktor.  There were storm clouds on the horizon, but as he looked on, they broke up and drifted away.

“They’ve isolated the virus,” Viktor said in the next call.  “It’s not a member of any viral family we’ve seen before.  It's a brand new virus, totally unique.  And the credit for its discovery is going to you, my dear.  I also have it on good authority that you’re going to be offered a permanent position with the Institut Pasteur when you get out.”

Yuuri smiled and gave Viktor a thumbs up.  Normally, he would have whooped for joy, but he could do that later.  Right now, he was just grateful to be alive.

 

* * *

 

When Yuuri’s fever finally broke, he was talking with Viktor, although it would probably be more accurate to say he was listening to Viktor talk.  Yuuri could talk a little and the oxygen mask had been replaced by the nasal cannula, but he still felt drained and exhausted. 

“I dreamed you sang to me,” Yuuri murmured.

On the screen, Viktor smiled. 

“I did.  You fell asleep and you looked so sick. It just seemed… natural, like the right thing to do.”

“Thank you,” Yuuri said.  And then, “I feel better.”

“You do?” Viktor asked.  “When was the last time they took your temperature?”

“A couple of hours ago,” Yuuri said.  He looked over at Marie, sitting off to the side and trying to give them privacy.

“Could I take my temperature?” he asked.  Marie brought over the thermometer and they all waited anxiously for the results.  Viktor looked like he was ready to come through the monitor and take the thermometer himself.

When it beeped, Yuuri held his breath, afraid to say anything in fear that somehow he might jinx it.

But when Marie smiled inside her blue suit, Yuuri knew everything was going to be alright.

“37C,” she crowed.  Viktor jumped on the bed and Makkachin joined him, thinking this was some game.

Yuuri covered his mouth with his hands, not caring who saw his tears.  These were tears of joy, of elation, of triumph.  These were happy tears.

“I’m going to be okay,” Yuuri sobbed.

 

* * *

 

A day later, Yuuri’s appetite returned.  Viktor watched as he ate a cup of applesauce and a little of the instant rice Hugo had made for him.  They wouldn’t let him have any of the okayu Viktor had made.  That was fine: Viktor said he’d be glad to make it again when Yuuri got out.

“Don’t overdo it,” Viktor admonished.  “Doctors make the worst patients.  You’re still recovering and your digestive system is still very delicate-”

“We know, Doctor,” Marie said and they all laughed.  But Yuuri knew the true test was whether or not he could keep this down.  After a couple of hours passed without incident, Henri figured he could try some more fruit.  As it was, Yuuri was beginning to feel hungry, and he couldn’t recall the last time he’d felt that way.  Slowly, he ate a cup of peaches, savoring every bite.  But even such a simple act as eating drained him, and he was asleep when Viktor called that night.  He slept for several hours, a deep, dreamless sleep, which was a welcome relief after all he’d been through.

A couple of days later, enough of his strength had returned for him to manage a shower all by himself again.  Henri was hovering, ready to offer assistance if need be, but Yuuri used the fold down seat in the shower and he was fine.

It was pure heaven to wash his hair again, to feel the days of sweat and grime being rinsed away.  It felt so good that Yuuri washed his hair a second time.  When he was done, Henri got him into a clean hospital gown and helped him back to bed.  Marie had put new sheets on while he showered and he decided he was eternally in her debt.

Yuuri curled up in bed with another small bowl of rice, a bottle of juice, and his phone and called Viktor.

The smile that lit up Viktor’s face was the most beautiful thing Yuuri had ever seen.

 

* * *

 

“Okay,” JJ said as he sat in the chair next to Yuuri’s bed.  “I’m going to badge you into the warm room where you can have a shower, then we’ll badge you into the locker room where you can change.  Viktor brought you fresh clothes.  You’re free to go.”

Immediately, Yuuri was up off the bed, waiting at the door for JJ to badge him out.  JJ swiped his badge over the door leading form the hot room to the warm room and Yuuri walked through it.  He stripped off his gown, tossed it into the bin to be autoclaved and incinerated, then stepped into the shower.  Yuuri washed off in the disinfectant spray, thoroughly scrubbing every part of his body.  He had to force himself to take his time and properly wash off.  Viktor was waiting for him and he wanted to see him so much!  He’d been in here almost an entire month and he wanted _out_!

When he was done, Yuuri dried off and put the towel in the same bin as his scrubs.  Isabella was waiting in the locker room to badge him in.  Yuuri walked up to the door and Isabella swiped her badge and the door clicked, allowing him into the cold room.  She turned her back as he entered, giving him what little privacy she could under the circumstances.  Vaguely he was aware that JJ had badged himself into the warm room and was entering the shower.

Quickly Yuuri put on the clothes Viktor had brought him.  It felt good to wear normal clothes again after almost a month in scrubs and hospital gowns, but the fit was wrong.  He still hadn’t gained back all the weight he’d lost while he was sick and his pants were loose around his waist.  Well, a few katsudon dinners and he’d fit them properly again.  Yuuri slipped on his shoes and took a deep breath and walked straight up to the door.  He was so ready to hold Viktor in his arms again.  Just a few more seconds…

Yuuri’s heart was hammering in his chest, not from fear or anxiety this time, but from elation.  Isabella walked up and swiped her badge again and Yuuri stepped out of the cold room straight into Viktor’s waiting arms.

Yuuri wrapped his arms around Viktor and buried his face in the crook of Viktor’s neck, a small sound escaping his lips.  Viktor trembled in his arms, holding him close and tight, burying his nose in Yuuri’s hair-

All at once, Yuuri realized Viktor was crying.  He pulled back and looked up into Viktor’s soft blue eyes and smiled.  Then he rose up on his tiptoes and kissed the tears away, one by one.  He gently kissed Viktor’s quivering lips and pushed his soft bangs back and tucked them over his ear.  Viktor leaned their foreheads together and softly brushed away the tears that had fallen on Yuuri’s cheeks with his thumb.

“Yuuri,” he breathed, “oh my precious Yuuri.”  Viktor looked like he wanted to say more, but he was too choked up to speak and just held him in his tight embrace.  Yuuri didn’t mind.  They could say all they needed to say later.   Right now, this was enough.

Yuuri pulled back and smiled up at Viktor. 

“Viktor,” Yuuri said, “let’s go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 38.4C - 101.1F
> 
> 39.4C - 102.9F
> 
> 37C - 98.6F
> 
> **oui** \- yes
> 
> **merci** \- thank you
> 
> **de rein** \- you're welcome
> 
> I've done some reading about people who have to go into quarantine and what the facilities they spend that time in are like, but I have not found anything about how they enter or leave quarantine. Therefore, entry and exit is modeled after a BSL 4 lab. It is entirely possible I got it all wrong. If I did and you know how it should work, feel free to let me know. 
> 
> [There really were macaques infected with smallpox at the CDC.](http://www.cidrap.umn.edu/news-perspective/2004/10/monkeys-serve-first-animal-model-smallpox) There are also [some macaques](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jigokudani_Monkey_Park) that take a dip in Japanese hot springs.
> 
> Only one more chapter to go!


	11. The Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri leaned his head against Viktor’s shoulder as they sat in the back of the truck, watching the sun slowly sinking on the horizon. They’d managed to get everything set up a few hours ago and were taking a rare opportunity to rest and relax, something that almost never happened out in the field. 
> 
> Off in the distance, bats were flying out for the night over the tops of the eucalyptus and jacaranda trees. Yuuri imagined them chittering to each other as they went out on their nightly search for food. Viktor gave his fingers a nervous little squeeze, which Yuuri soothed with a peck of his lips to Viktor’s shoulder. Who would have thought that Viktor would be the one to end up with a touch of anxiety about bats, given the circumstances? And who would have thought, given those same circumstances, they’d be right back at it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings this time. Just a heartfelt thank you to all of you who have given me kudos, commented, bookmarked, and shared this story.

Yuuri leaned his head against Viktor’s shoulder as they sat in the back of the truck, watching the sun slowly sinking on the horizon.  They’d managed to get everything set up a few hours ago and were taking a rare opportunity to rest and relax, something that almost never happened out in the field. 

Off in the distance, bats were flying out for the night over the tops of the eucalyptus and jacaranda trees.  Yuuri imagined them chittering to each other as they went out on their nightly search for food.  Viktor gave his fingers a nervous little squeeze, which Yuuri soothed with a peck of his lips to Viktor’s shoulder.  Who would have thought that Viktor would be the one to end up with a touch of anxiety about bats, given the circumstances?  And who would have thought, given those same circumstances, they’d be right back at it? 

Celestino hadn’t been surprised.  “You’ve got to get back on the horse,” he’d said when they talked on the phone after his release from the hospital.  Celestino always seemed to have some colorful idiom for just about everything. 

But then Celestino had gone even further, surprising him.

“I always knew you had it in you, Yuuri.  Go back out there and make us all proud.”

Yuuri had always had the impression that Celestino thought he was weak.  Maybe he was wrong.  Maybe he’d been wrong about a lot of things.

Phichit told him he was crazy, but Phichit thought he was crazy for doing fieldwork in the first place.  Chris had sighed expressively and laid a hand over his heart.

“Oh, the things you two put me through,” he said, feigning distress.

Viktor had fixed Chris with a withering look and he’d dropped the act pretty quickly.  But it was clear he was concerned about them.  Chris would always worry, no matter what they did.  It was in his nature.

“Okay, time for bed,” Viktor said, sitting up and stretching.  “Three am comes awfully early, even here in Queensland.” 

Yuuri leaned in to give him a quick kiss and climbed out of the back of the truck, followed by Viktor.  

He knew there were plenty of people out there who would think that he was digging around in places where he shouldn’t be and looking for things that were best left alone.  But he knew he was doing important work, work that made a difference in the lives of people he would never even meet.  It was also work that he loved and he was doing it with the man that he loved.  In Viktor, Yuuri finally had a partner in every sense of the world.

Were there risks?  Certainly.  He knew that better than most people.  But there were risks associated with living your everyday life.  Had he chosen a career as a salaryman, he could die crossing the street during his daily commute.  The figure skaters he’d idolized as a child risked physical injury on a daily basis.  They’d been out looking for zebras among the horses and found a unicorn, as Phichit put it.  The virus that had infected Yuuri was unique: the only samples of the virus had come from him and the bat he'd caught it from.  And the virus had almost killed him.  Yuuri was well aware of how close it had been and how lucky he was.

Despite everything- the long flights to remote locations lacking in creature comforts, sleeping on pushed together cots under mosquito nets, eating pre-packaged meals that they joked tasted like cardboard- Yuuri kept going.  He loved what he did and he loved making a difference in the lives of others.

He reached out and took Viktor's hand in his, admiring the golden ring he'd put on Viktor's finger.  The conference in Barcelona had been thrilling, despite how nervous he'd been when they presented their paper.  Afterwards, they'd skipped the celebrations and opted to go out for an evening stroll in the Christmas market.  Yuuri wanted to get Viktor a gift for his birthday and instead they ended up getting engaged.

So much for keeping his impulsive side in check.  But some impulses were better than others.

Yuuri stopped walking and pulled Viktor back to him.

Viktor turned and looked at him, a questioning look on his face.  Yuuri smiled, closed the distance between them, and pulled him down for a kiss.

“Dance with me?” he whispered against Viktor’s lips.

“But there’s no music,” Viktor replied, a smile in his voice.

“Do we need any?” Yuuri purred.

Viktor huffed out a little laugh at their old joke and slipped his arms around Yuuri’s waist.  Yuuri put his hands over Viktor’s shoulders, letting them fall into their comfortable and familiar position behind Viktor’s neck.

Viktor leaned his forehead against Yuuri’s and made a small, satisfied sound.  Yuuri could feel Viktor’s heartbeat against his chest as they began to slowly sway together in the middle of the forest.

He would always be there for Viktor.  And Viktor would always be there for him.  This was their life and Yuuri knew he wouldn’t have it any other way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here we are at the end. Wow. Just.. wow.
> 
> I want to thank all of you who stuck through this with me to the end. I can only hope you enjoyed what was sometimes a wild ride. 
> 
> I also want to thank a whole lot of people for their support while I worked on this. First of all, thanks go to Sachiro and Ingthing for deciding to do the Life and Love bang in the first place. Without it, this story would have remained a few pages of scribbled notes and never seen the light of day. Thanks also go to Adrianna99 for telling me about the bang. I never would have found it had it not been for her. 
> 
> Littorella gave me hope when she said, "Tell me more about your story." Her beautiful artwork inspired me to write a better story. AntaresPromise kept me from going too far into the weeds, corrected my errors, and kept me going. She beta'ed this and wrote her own story. Thank you both so much for everything. 
> 
> Thanks also go to all the wonderful people on Discord who cheered me on when I went to do another of my endless sprints. Louciferish, ICanSeeClearlyNow, imaginary_dragonling, Suonjar, neer, wicchan, postingpebbles, and anyone else I may have missed... thank you all so much for cheering me on, telling me to keep going, and that I could do it. I couldn't have done it without your encouragement and cheering. 
> 
> And if you're reading this, then let me thank you, too. All the wonderful comments, kudos, shares, bookmarks.... Every single one of them brought a smile to my face. 
> 
> Thank you all so very much.
> 
> I'm gonna miss these guys...


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